Seasons

In the village the ice is thawing
The people move to till the field
Lively as the golden rays of sun
Spread out to touch each of their faces

Underneath the mat of old forest leaves
There scurries a little ant
Busy as the sweet song of birth
Chimes throughout the forest

From the village comes sounds of little feet
The children race in front of the village bakery
Joyful as they feel the summer air
Running swiftly at their side

Around the curve of the old oak tree
A young butterfly pushes off the branches
Curious as she sees the forest in a new way
Fluttering above the tree she was born on

On the hill where the little red house stands
The girls kneel on the earthy ground
Cheerful as their hands grasp rosy cranberries
Laughing as they smear crimson juice over their faces

Past the river that rushes cold and swift
A young bear cub snuffles around the bushes
Happy as he feasts on ripe blackberries
Wiping his muzzle as he spots his mother in the distance

Up in the room of the cabin of wood

The family sits close by the flames in the hearth
Lively as they watch the first snow touch the ground
Singing old tunes as they greet the cold

Between the crack in the old stone cliff
The hedgehog curls into a ball
Sleepy as he hears snow falls outside
Curling up tightly as he prepares for a long sleep