Haiku | 俳句

Winter solitude in a world of one color the sound of wind. - Matsuo Bashō

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In temple's hush, snow descends with grace,

White whispers veil each sacred space.

Silent echoes of ancient prayer,

Blanketed by winter's tender care.

Through frosted gates, lanterns glow,

Casting shadows soft and low.

Amidst the chill, a tranquil shrine,

Where solitude and peace entwine.

Each flake a verse in nature's ode,

In white, the temple finds abode.

A sanctuary in wintry night,

Where spirits dance in pure moonlight.