Beneath the tendrils of a timid and tangible tree, four sacred seasons emerge,
Creeping inside the branches, seeping into the roots, awaking the sleeping beast,
Forcing a sky to glisten blue and flowers to rise like baking yeast,
A cycle that forces land and sea to merge.

Spring draws in birds who sing songs of serenity,
Humble bees buzz and swoosh toward a patch of garden flowers,
Beautiful birds bathe and bask in the sunlight as minutes turn into hours,
A tree, green and lean, says farewell to a warm season that settled in the city.

Summer welcomes warm weather and friendly families,
At a lake, school-children play as the steak is cooked upon the grill,
The sun warms the earth as clouds settle on the hill,
The plentiful tree shakes its leaves as it bakes in the season of allergies.

Autumn allows animals and humans to change without cause,
The lush green leaves rush to the ground,
Yellow, orange, and red grow and fall without a sound,
A rusty rake is used to clean the stressful mess created by leaves that never pause.

Winter introduces icy weather, colder than the inside of an igloo,
Angry people rush to clear slush that piles beneath their boots,
Animals bury beneath the bare ground, beneath the gnarl roots,
The tree stands bare in the frigid air as clouds shroud the sky of blue.