Frozen Flux
Reflection
In the icy grasp of stillness, a figure stirs,
A dance of frost and shadow, a fleeting blur.
The glassy surface, a mirror to the soul,
Reflects the turmoil, the quiet, and the cold.
The sculpture stands, a monument to the ephemeral,
A moment captured, a lifetime in the making.
The light dances across its frozen form,
Revealing the beauty, the pain, and the storm.
In this fragile, crystalline world, we find our own,
A reflection of our hopes, our fears, our unknown.
The frozen flux, a paradox of stillness and motion,
A reminder that even in the cold, there is devotion.