The sun rises. God awakens from His bed before the morning earth, with his eyes wide open, stringent to garden the land. On the land the meadows bloom and the petals blossom. The sap nectar produces for insects to courtship. The ground melts its winter-white-weather fleece of snow, blanketed the coldest season passed away for the year coated warmer. And spring, is a season of song; the season of birth and enlightened serenity is among us.
The grass blades ascend and pierce their green leafy nails poked on the fields. And the streams melt the snow increased their leveled mounds of ice fallen into the pool of waters. The mountains streak their crystal pristine rocks glinted the dross shone, its face in the rays of the sun. Cracked fissures grow veins of vines in nature seen done.
And the breeze from the wind kisses the seeds sprinkled into the soil, as the soil enriches the seeds upturned into the plants overturned populated into evergreen and fruit-bearing trees. The animals appear from their collapsing exhaustion tumbled from a solstice nap. The skies, whether they are confused of clouds, inspired by auroras or baptized by showers, spring is a time marked celebrated for building and desired picnics fashioned by flowers.
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