In the once lush Forest, flowers now wither,
All thanks to the eternal winter.
Came without warning, in a moment’s notice;
It killed even the strongest lotus.
The trees stand alone, lonely and pale,
Yet they remain hopeful that spring will prevail.
They believe in what there is to come;
Their sorrow will melt under tomorrow’s Sun.
In the Forest of the Heart, seasons are strange;
None can predict when, how they will change.
Winter came fast, and so quickly it may leave,
Allowing the shrubs to spread their leaves.
The quiet flap of a butterfly’s wings
Could be the reason for the coming of spring.
Trees will stand tall, the flowers will bud,
Fireflies will listen to frogs in the mud.
The rivers will flow, the fish will once more swim.
A serene scene, just when will it come…?
The trees can dream, the fireflies have to wait,
The frogs can sleep, the shrubs can slumber…
Oh, a butterfly!
