It the fox to find a den
The raven to a bow it's home
The shrew to dig into the earth
And the trout to freeze below

The ice the snow
The months from sun
With peace i make the dark
And dark so early every day
Drawn and ugly grey

Be it by a God the hazy
Still waking to the lazy
Of the so much he to do
But mostly very little

But with the will to follow through

To makeing him a a man
And man to make a flame of such
of Oppenheimer's warning

I have now become as death
And the cool of Earth's command


So to cooling was to warmth
The march into the spring

The step into the light
The blossoms april brings

The waking of the things that sprout
The children of a forest Stout

Pine and oak speak to each other
But of this work god i do doubt