Our prelude began as the buds blossomed

When roots were full of air

And grass glimmered green

We swung on swings elevating our feet before they met the wood chips

We carried this under the suns torch

As our notes were their highest

As the leaves changed so did the swings

Slight orange metallic rust crept on them

This is when we sang with barely any air

When snowfall smothered us

We thought it was our time

But the rust, saved us, melting the snow

Finally, the sun came out, the skies opened, and the birds sang

And rain drifted us into the river

Flowing alongside flower pedals and your vitality

Hopefully, our cycle will break