all that was and all that was lacking

Have you ever noticed how silent true winter is? The temperatures loom low and flurries float on icy breezes...and there is nothing but the hollow moan of Winter in the trees, and all the world is strangely hushed. Perhaps it is that everyone, like me, is simply taken by the cold, waiting, still, shaken with the dead quiet of a dead season. I felt today, as though I could have raised my voice to the gray heavens and all four corners of the earth would have heard my words. Everything seemed that full [or empty] of peaceful discord.

And I was full and empty, appeased and disturbed, lonesome and surrounded all at the same time...