The maple swells from frail to machismo
Green tree tea hails its season
The fury tail scatters playful like a joke
As vice gerents seek its meaning
Days become more playful
Thoughts loom outside
Transformation so skillful
Even seekers marvel at the wild
Though Manuel asks more of you
Nocturnal escapades give weigh
We're pulled by forces subject too
For rain wets land and face
Elder Bo hooks in water and worm
To again seek the Machismo
Though three inches dangle and squirm
That's not how the stories go
12 turns till spring in its turn
We turn to spring with vigor
Wildly yet calming energy burns
As color fills our elixirs
I can never cease at this change
Every season on the wheel
But its this one, the vernal equinox
Is when my machismo seems to heal
