When the Wheels Fall Silent

When winter rolls in,
and the roads turn slick with silence,
a sadness settles in the rider’s chest ,
a kind of stillness that hums
where the engine used to sing.

The sky hangs low,
grey and heavy with memory.
Frost grips the handlebars of thought,
and the mind slows,
trapped between longing and caution.

It isn’t just the weather
it’s the waiting.
The loss of motion,
the ache of passion parked too long.
For some, this is more than a season;
it’s a kind of exile.

The bike sleeps under canvas,
its chrome dulled by salt and time.
Oil thickens, batteries fade,
yet beneath the quiet steel,
the heart of it still beats ,
patient, faithful, wild.

The roads whisper danger:
black ice, blind fog,
the sting of wind that numbs the soul.
Even courage must bow
to nature’s rule ,
the throttle waits for gentler skies.

And though the nights feel endless,
and the sun forgets to shine,
every rider knows this truth:
the road is only sleeping,
not gone.

Because when spring returns ,
when light cuts through the cold
and that first engine stirs again ,
the world will open wide,
the sadness will lift,
and freedom will roar back to life.

Stephanie Veronique

#FuelToTheSoul
#WinterBlues
#SilentRoads
#SeasonalSadness
#WaitingForSpring
#ColdDaysWarmHearts
#MelancholyMoments
#PoetryOfTheRoad
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#ResilienceAndRide