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

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