When Mother Earth finally gave birth to Spring,
When the world was painted green anew,
I went to see the wildflowers, the very
Gifts of Spring.
Wildflowers blooming, a continuous stream
Flowing off into the horizon. The sweet aromas
Of Mother Nature whirling together and tickling my nose,
The multitude of colors gleaming beautifully under the shining sunlight
Like ink not yet dried.
Overcome by joy,
I breathe it all in with my very being, until I catch
A tree, its tempting shade
Inviting me to slumber.
The wheel of time unremittingly rolling,
Whispering knowingly of all that ever was
And all that ever would be.
Roused ever so gently by the chirps of the
Birds singing melodies
Carried by the wind, I awake
To see the setting sun, the sky spilled with all the
Colors one could imagine.
Night comes swiftly, and the birds cease their chirping,
The silence of the night penetrated by the brave crickets alone.
The cool night air blows,
But the fire in my heart burns yet.
The setting sun left in