Icy pinnacles, true prisms of light,
awaken this place, of frozen delight.
Give voice to its waters, so cold and clear,
for the coming of spring, is very near.
The air all about, is misty and cold.
The snowflakes are falling, swirling so bold.
Breathe deeply its scent, of old and new.
Reflect in its colors, of wonderful hues.
Cast away the winter blues,
The silence, awake now, sings...
Arlie Pierson © 2008