On a floor of fresh snow, We dance a stately waltz. As the trees look on in silence.   If we can listen past the thunder of our hearts, We might hear the stars sing in silver tones. Giving time to our dance.   The moon gilds our forms, Made stark by the cold ice of our ballroom. Our souls cleansed in its light.   And in this dance,  We are one and the same. And I give you my heart for yours.   And still the stars sing. St...