The earth is in need of your sustains,
The people in need of your Saturated touch,
The brittle crops in need of your remedy,
Mother Nature a widow growing weary.

YOUR HEAVENLY PRESENCE,
Not insight of my teary eyes,
As winter is ready to departure,
The sun tilted from our unsteady grip on Scion.

A thought so selfish,
it ignites a spark of envy in lass...