There's a catchy little rhythm in the crunching of the snow,
As it shines with water droplets in the warmth of sunlight's glow.
I can hear it in the whistle of the winter wind so cold,
And the song of every cardinal with his feathers bright and bold.
Listen closely--can you hear it? In the cracking of the ice,
And the creaking of the bushes, each leaf clear and so precise.
I can hear it in the jingle of each shining, silver bell,
Ringing out so merrily their voice throughout the dell.
Yet though I hear it in the noises, I hear it most of all,
In the silence of the winter, and each new snowflake's fall.