The wick smolders: black it burns The paper crumples: wrinkled it forms The fire flickers: smoking it dies   The time is past, the time is past   The tree trembles: holding its life The ground shivers: banishing its cold The roots stretch: grasping its sun     The day is here, the day is here   There lays the puddle of evening rain There adorns the buds of vernal bloom There splashes the feet of morning dew There flies the finch of brownish-hue There dies the dark of numbing pain   Prepare! Prepare!   The breeze slips through paths unseen The sunlight skips on water’s grey sheen The raindrops tug on willow’s bough The blossoms toss their faces aloft   Aware! Aware!   See the petals of violet, the centers of gold See the sky of wispy blue the airy white See the branches of silver, the stems of old See the stems of sea-green, the amber light   Awaken! Awaken!   Hear the song of sparrow, finch, and jay Hear the wind through branches play Hear the rain tiptoe on rooftops gray   Ware! The time is fleeing, fleeing, fleeing……….