Melody Beneath the Snow

Summer signs are hanging like a joke on trees, Cold wind sifts through lights like broken dreams. Someone planned a show for sun and laughter, But winter showed up early — took the master. A stage with velvet draped in quiet frost, Warm intentions buried, half-lost. Still a melody survives inside the cold— Like someone’s courage trying to be told. Music blooms beneath the frozen sky, Fragile notes refuse to say goodbye. Summer’s voice is breathing through the white— Soft rebellion glowing in the night. Sound climbs upward like a spark unsure, Fades, then flashes — tender, pure. Some notes settle like white feathers near, Some fly off where no one’s ear is near. I pass by slow, pretending I can’t feel it, But something pulls — a truth too real to kill it. This music wasn’t made for crowds or cheer, Just for the brave who choose to stop and hear. Hidden warmth beneath the winter air, Silent art performed for those who care. If summer sleeps beneath a sheet of snow— Then melody remains to let us know. Hidden warmth beneath the winter air, Silent art performed for those who care. If summer sleeps beneath a sheet of snow— Then melody remains to let us know.