Is no more, because
Time does not stand still.
Summer's sun goes on and on.
Flowers bloom 'ere winter's gone,
And fills the space upon the hill.
Fall is plagued by winter's breath
To make its beauty lie in death,
While Spring still counts its gain.
Birds fly North, then fly South.
Grasses wither from the drought,
While leaves upon the trees remain.
What was and used to be
Remains a mystery unto me.
Yet in God's hand it stays.
Birds know where and when to go;
Seeds know how and when to grow.
In all the passing days
Nature declares God's Glory and Praise.