The Velvet Stillness

The world exhales a hushed, white breath, unseen, unheard,

As velvet curtains draw across the sleeping street.

Each fragile flake, a silent, whispered word,

Descends to make the restless rhythm cease and meet.

No creak of branch, no distant engine's hum,

The very air absorbs the smallest sound.

A sacred hush where all the noises numb,

As winter's gentle tapestry is wound.

Beneath the lamp, a million diamonds gleam,

Upon the cloak that drapes the sleeping pane.

A solitary soul caught in a waking dream,

Where time itself forgets its hurried reign.

This midnight ballet, soft and pure and deep,

A symphony of stillness, calm and vast.

Secrets the winter-laden shadows keep,

A moment born to exquisitely outlast.