The passion within me,
keeps on burning,
even through the cold,
harshness of winter,

The frigid air,
sinks deeper,
with each breath,
how will I sing?

My mouth begins to frost,
shivers go down,
my spine,
as I scramble for warmth,

Then a flicker,
it’s tiny, but there,
a small flame,
warms my soul,

My lungs start to fill,
and I slowly breathe again,
and then,
I sing.

Leave a Reply