What you see is not a dream.
Hide now before they seek.

Isn’t she lovely when she sighs in relief
And her breath twists and twirls the leaves?
After they burned her forest and left her in grief,
Mother Nature can finally breathe.

I remember when it used to snow.
I’d stare in awe out my window.
‘You’ll get frostbite!’ I was told.
Now, I’m old and it barely gets cold.

I remember when it used to snow.
Even at night, you could see it glow.
The birds would leave, but now they stay.
Even they’re confused in these “winter” days.

I remember when it used to snow.
O my, wasn’t it beautiful?
My niece questions on the way home,
“What did it feel like, the snow?”

I am born.
I conquer.
I am hated.
I am murdered.

They hated the snow she provided them
So they can build their snowmen.
They angered her, so she froze them in,
And they wished and prayed for the sun again.

She brought them light and butterflies
To hush their mouths and halt their cries.
They asked for roses, beets, and tangerines.
She cried to grow their floral dreams.

Her tears halted their outside time,
So they begged and asked for more sunlight.
She stopped her tears and obeyed their request,
And brought bees, fireflies, and sweat.

The flowers she brought gave them flus.
The bees she gave stung them blue.
The sun scorched and burned their skin,
So they begged and begged for the cold again.

She blew wind to cool them off.
She showed colors of brown and apricot.
She left leaves and pinecones around their house,
But they raked them up and threw them out.

They angered her, so she froze them in,
With hopes to never see them again!
She did everything they requested,
But they hated her no matter what she did.

Lost at home drifting through the sea,
What once used to be thriving,
Annexed by unsighted debris,
The ice moved on feebly.

Nature has her magical ways,
Growing and changing the weathered days.
Despite the beautiful scenes she can provide,
Her magic is no match for mankind.

The ice wonders why it cannot fight.
It wonders why it has to survive.
As it floats around, it begs for the life
It once had in its past time.
As it is slowly shrinking in size,
The ice wonders why, oh why.

The ice’s foe enjoys his fun,
Living wildly under the sun.
The foe knows his materialistic behavior,
Does no good for him nor Mother Nature.
As the foe carelessly continues his unruly rights,
Why, oh why, wonders the ice.

With no defense, the ice moves along, hoping its past life will return.
The sky looked down at nature’s work. It too, mourned and yearned.
Slowly shrinking and passing by,
The ice wonders why, oh why.