The communion with nature begins
When the wee hours of the year wear thin
These hours that start to grow longer
As the times of snow fade with the rain’s showers

Birds fly back to their homes
And the squirrels start their springtime chatter.
Life seems to grow and play together

My communion with nature begins
With the buds on the trees, a feeling that I am kin
To the world, surrounding my bare feet,
Branching out in the growing heat.

Flowers bloom all over the fields,
Resurrected life, greener grass,
Flowing streams, and lakes of glass.

It is here we commune with nature,
Digging our toes into soil like roots,
Growing with the flowers and trees.
Learning that all we need is here
In front of our eyes and under out feet.

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