Moved as Seasons
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