Spring time rain is falling,
the sun shines,
flowers blooming.
Not too hot yet, but not too cold,
perfect weather for me to hold.
The leaves on trees
grow back again.
And there's blossoms on
the apricot tree.
Small pink blooms
on the palm of my hand.
I shake them up
and throw them
and smile as they land.
They fall from the branches,
or whisper to the wind.
they love them
as they leave them,
as heaven would leave them.
They fall like rain from the branches,
and kiss you're skin,
with velvety wishes
they play with you.
The world is alive,
and it tells you a tale,
using the blossoms
that float on the gales.
The tree spirits dance
at midnight and sing
the song of the earth
and they sprinkle the seeds.
Rainbows come often,
as hearts start to soften
as rain falls on sunshine
and melts souls like mine.
These were back in those days,
when you'd fall asleep on the grass
and not have to be worried
about the buzzing bees.
But they'd sing you a lullaby
and guard over you,
and dance with the flowers
as they fell asleep too.
The grass and the air all covered with dew.
But only in the morning.
Its only sad in mourning.
The stars shine with her eyes
and brighten you're life.
He holds you tightly.
Watching the clouds with you lightly.
The birds all sing for you,
every creature and plant seems alive
just for you.
And you try to focus
on things that are "important"
but you can't because
you're having too much fun.
You run past a stream
and you're shadow dances across with you.
It looks like she's flying
and she is because she's free.
She's grown through out the year,
and she'd never go back.
She's seen love and heartbreak
but given the chance,
she'd do it all again,
because now she is free.
Every blossom is beautiful,
and smell like her hair;
and its like when they're together
like there's a secret in the air.
Her spirit is intertwined with the trees.
And each season she loses and paints back her leaves.
But her blossoms will always be back in the spring.
Her blossoms will always be back when comes spring.
