Wonderful metaphor:

Once the looming soul-stitch burst
And its black fabrications blanketed the earth
With melancholy ash–

Anyone who knows winter will agree. The word "winter" seems to have the origins from something to death but I like to think of it as rest just like there are rests in music. The downs of solitude are given for us to reflect away from the noise of Spring. Walking outside in fresh fallen snow everything is quiet and still. Just when it seems hopeless for life to return then the first signs of Spring bloom.