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.
Copyright © Edward Orozco | Year Posted 2009
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