Whisper of the Heights

I am the ghost upon the wind,

a whisper woven into snow.

Through frozen peaks and shadowed cliffs,

I walk where none but silence go.

My coat is frost, my breath is mist,

my steps leave echoes, light and brief.

I dance where winter carves its throne,

a monarch draped in white belief.

The world below is loud and lost,

but here, the sky and stone are mine.

A hunter’s patience, still and sure,

with golden eyes that gleam and shine.

You may not see, but I am here,

where moonlight meets the mountain’s crest.

I am the whisper of the heights,

the unseen king, the fleeting guest.