At first it was subtle
When the birds started singing
In a way that was ghostly and sweet;
In the springtime the rabbits are
A friend of a friend of the daffodils
That are lonely and quiet by the grave
Of a mouse so soon forgotten
Whose death was begotten
By the screech of an owl.

Underneath a Dogwood tree that had slept its way into bloom
Was a stream so cool I almost saw
Ice forming
I could have sworn it might have snowed
And spring could almost be a second winter
Instead of snow there are blossoms from the pear tree
Fluttering to the ground
Like ice crystals around
A sign - a sign of things to come.

When Easter falls, most meadows celebrate Jesus -
A festival of life
And also a mourning of those
Not so lucky
And so from the springs flow a type of
Melancholy tortoise
That surface
With a purpose
To gaze at life with shining eyes.

On top of the clouds
Falcons rest and sing a ballad
Of how long their feathers have fallen
And how nothing can last forever
Through this song the crickets sleep
And animals like the lizards start to
Think they can pretend
By trying to befriend
The entire wild.