field of snow so white and pure...an aggregate of stones...silent and sure... balanced each upon each...they hum a tune...winter winds carry...soft winter monsoon...the deer stands still in the whispering snow... the blue jay and crow watching...memories of childhood...within the sky...soaring back home...world always changing...but never alone...stones sing softly...a melody from the past...murmurs of wind songs in a sky so vast...reflections of times when the world was new...when wonder filled the air... and skies were blue...the quiet of the forest...where stone upon stone lay high...a piece of our past...dreams still fly...through branches ...the trees...memories flow...to the heart of the winter...the purity of the snow...holding the stones...the wind's sweet call...to the deer... the bluejay...the crow...the wonder of it all...in each whispered song...in each winter stone...lives the magic of the past...that we wish to have known...