Sacred breeze whispers,

Shrine's tranquility unfolds,

Divine whispers flow.

In winter's silent shroud, where time slows its pace,

The sacred wind whispers with delicate grace.

Through fields of snow and branches stark and bare,

It carries secrets ancient, beyond compare.

In hues of monochrome, the landscape lies still,

While the sacred wind weaves its mystical thrill.

With each gentle sigh, it paints tales untold,

Of forgotten wisdom and dreams of old.

In the slow march of time, beneath the frosty sky,

The sacred wind's whispers softly fly.

Through valleys and hills, it dances and sings,

A timeless melody that forever clings.