Aurora learns new grammar
on paper made of night;
the Inuit stars remember
the elder’s breath of light
Sled dogs hum their dreaming
the ice repeats old lore;
a child collects the echoes
from ancestors before
The world feels still but speaking
the snow a living prayer;
each flake a note of history
that glitters in the air
When dawn reveals the silence
so perfect pure and clear—
we bow to what we can’t own
and call it love sincere