Soft Silence

Snow falls slowly,
glistening on the hillside in the moonlight.

A gentle wind blows
through the snowcapped evergreens.

Soft. Silent.

The scent of a Christmas dinner floats
From a distant source,
Where a family talks and laughs,
Sharing memories and making more.

But here, it is soft. Silent.

I look to the sky and see
A star shining bright,
Just as it shone long, long ago
To guide Wise Men to where Love’s birth was foretold.

On a night that was soft. Silent.

By Rebecca Faithe