
The longest night descends with solemn grace,
A velvet hush that crowns the waiting earth.
The sun withdraws, yet leaves a tender trace,
A promise faint of dawn’s returning birth.
The stars burn bright upon the frosted air,
As if to guard the world in silver flame.
The trees stand still, in silhouettes laid bare,
And whisper ancient songs without a name.
Yet in this depth of shadow, light is sown—
A spark that stirs beneath the frozen seam.
For even darkness cannot claim the throne
When solstice wakes the year from winter’s dream.
So let the night be long, the silence deep—
For in its heart, the rising sun shall sleep.

