The Lion's Book: A Poetry Collection

To Enter Spring's Abyss

Lulls will seldom be found here

For nature never stops

Producing chirps and rustles

From flourishing treetops.

Kelly, moss, and ivy green-

To only list a few-

Are some of early Spring’s

Most vibrant, glowing hues.

A sparrow here, a croaker there

Conduct the symphony

Of looping sounds from all around

The neighboring oak tree.

Your presence here, your trodden steps

Are lost ‘neath all of this.

For when a man enters the wood,

They enter an abyss.