Where are the flowers that I saw?
Will they all come back with the touch of the spring breeze?
Will they all return with the thaw?
When I am down, it seems to me
The trees are grey and bare...
It seems that I should remind myself:
The buds, the green, are always there!
Happiness and sorrow are, indeed,
Successors to each other.
The wheel always turns, green to white,to green again...
That's the moral from Nature..the mother.
White may seem dreary, but it's a mix
Of all the colours together;
So if I miss red, blue, or green..
I just have to wait for warmer weather!