Strings of light, which beckon to the call. Shimmering and dancing. Giggling with each fall. Scavenging and feeding on last night’s gloom. Swiftly multiplying. Crawling through, weaving a loom. Warmer than before. Easing the eyes. Ready for the long rest, from this body of ice. Poem By Sanjeev ‘Cimeries’ Retnasingam