Wandering down a lush tree-lined grove,
Wondering at the magic of the change of season –
Summer, heating up life in its stove
Winter, preserving, cooling, making way for reason –
Rash thought, sanguine reason, all collide
Mixed in with birdsong and teeming life surrounding all
This world, this society, this life, all so satisfied
And yet subject to instant separation – is there not a cure-all?
Sweet words, harsh beliefs, deliberate signs,
War and death, walking hand in hand with peace and the new-born
Life in a microcosm – a garden in bloom – it all aligns
The miracle of existense – the wonder of each new morn.