To some, winter is excruciatingly cold,
To some, it is the symbol of serenity,
But do we pause to ask ourselves its meaning?
To know how it correlates with our identity,

Delving below the surface, it goes deep within,
The layers and layers to unravel,
Are the mysteries of one’s being,
Unexpected like a journey of travel,

Thoughts are gathered, animals are armed,
To face the harsh realities of Jack Frost,
It’s snow seeps and covers all shades,
Sows the feeling that all is lost,

But alas, that white breaks into a spectrum of colors,
Showing the vastness of the forbidding winter,
A season that is a lens to life,
Its learning sharper than a splinter,

Renewing and reviewing ourselves every time,
Is all about what we call this “wintertime.”