Statues In The Snow

Statues In The Snow
© Surazeus
2025 05 09

Stark morning glare exposes field of graves 
where marble figures lurk in frozen rows, 
mute faces, carved from stone, that eyeless gaze 
with hope to seek the cold indifferent sun 
as flakes descend to cloak their stony forms 
with comfortless shroud time cannot erode. 

Vibrant voices that echoed door-lined halls 
now flutter under weight of wintry breath 
since our laughter and cries in songs have ceased, 
replaced by whispers trapped in listless wind, 
yet stories of our lives linger in words 
etched deep in stone as our unspoken names. 

Young child with arms outstretched in playful glee 
leaps in unchanging flight of carefree joy 
beside her elders with unknowing smiles, 
their wisdom captured in enduring pose 
by sculptor hand that granted them long life 
with permanence in fleeting swirls of snow. 

Wild snowflakes dance, oblivious to time, 
then settle sparkling on each chiseled brow 
with fleeting touch on fate-eternal forms 
by tender grace of hard unyielding hope, 
so we embrace the transient and the fixed 
that converge beneath the pale wordless sky. 

When visitors approach with reverent awe 
to gaze at throng of statues in the snow, 
they reach out hands that pulse with curious life 
to caress ancient time-carved face of love 
that beams with passion they lived long ago, 
projecting warm emotions on cold stone. 

Dark shadows stretch across cold field of graves 
as eyeless sun bathes statues of dead souls 
in amber glow of fleeting memories 
that weaves tapestry on gray masks of stone, 
depicting animated scenes of hope 
while they stand vigil in the sunless night. 

When Earth revolves another day of change 
light gleams on snow that softens stony edge, 
transforming rigid lines to gentle curves 
on statues that stand unwaveringly proud 
as guardians of our secret memories 
that we record in truth-reflective tales. 

So as we pass still statues in the snow, 
whose silence mirrors hopes of our own lives, 
we ponder path of life our feet have mapped 
that intertwine our own sorrows and joys 
in frozen forms that teach us to endure 
so we find grace in swirls of wordless snow.