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Moved as Seasons Turn

Moved to say words I cant speak, the seasons turn.
And again its a new begining, as the grass wakes from the ground below.
The waters of the mighty rivers and streams flow with freshness.
As the bear yawns and wakes from his long slumber, a bird sings.
Who's song can be heard echoing threw the mountains.
Were as an old tree falls I new one begins rise and takes its place.
The warm rays of sun melt the snow, as words that we feel begin to shine.

Brady Smith 1/17/98