It Rains

Tree branches whisper in joy It rains, so they fill their thirst A pleasent green they have to show Birds of all nest in his branches A quiet moment stands by the scene The smell of new life overwhelms the medow Life itself is reading poetry My pen took life And I wrote of the coming fruit To preserve the cycle yet again Where leaves stars green, turn yellow And die a dry brown As the tree gets skinny, a frown is shown Behold, that I may withdraw from the first stone A heavy breath shook the earth Her wind was blowing with such strength The trees all took strong holds to aid one another His flowers all droped Branches broke For the earth was angry It spoke out in loud thunder And it all began once more We die, new are born Preserve? Tradition so that a piece of your memory May live forever.