The world is turning green again,
the trees are growing clothes,
and though the cooler air remains,
who knows to where it blows?
And soon the earth will sprout and bloom,
bud, blossom, and flower –
worlds away from winter’s gloom,
an awe-some superpower.
Where once we could see miles,
now trees disguise the way,
and the once-barren isles
beckon bugs to play.
And do you reckon that the birds
know the beauty of their words?
Or that the gentle sway of leaves,
a free ballet within the trees,
billowing beneath the breeze,
conceives of how it helps me breathe?
O! It is a masterpiece!
Creation all around;
nature as a symphony
and spring the loudest sound!
Bring on the splendor filled with life
till summer marches forth with fife
to usher colors of the autumn
until the leaves fall to the bottom…
The world is turning gray again,
the trees are shedding clothes,
and though the cooler air remains,
who knows to where it blows?
