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The lantern guards a fragile flame
Snow falls without a need for name;
A maple shadow drapes the sill
And time forgets its urge to kill
Each flake performs a slow descent
Each breath of glass a testament;
To quiet love to inner stay
That warms the cold without display
The wick leans low yet will not die
It hums of hearts that still comply;
With faith not loud but steady clear
That light is born where none appear
By dawn the frost begins to weep
The lantern sighs the ember deep;
Its ashes write across the pane—
Hope never leaves it just remains
