Quiet Change by Alex Amann

Tell me of a place where the air is as crisp

And the spruce boughs pale under a new crop of snow.

Tell me now, and I’ll pack my bag and go

Boundless blue clashes sharp with flowing white

While the cold shiver of wind sheds small specks of light

Off of proud pines on mountain peaks

Where the world whispers but nobody speaks

The change of the season brings a spark to the air;

Warm breaths of wind climb through iced streaming ravines,

Running apart, as the forest awakes in green.

The fast pace of full life awaits, but my contentment is here.