Not as likely to compete or spar,
And yet, to each other a bane;
Each is its own to sing
And rains its glory shower.
The birth, the slightest from afar!
A gorgeous color, doth keep man sane.
Hard tossed the wind, particles fling!
So grasped many a leaf, stem, and flower.
Granted to the others, a lack of char,
Pulses the very life in every vein!
Growing before her, the next generation’s king
Will soon take in this hour.
Taken eyes of the southernmost star,
In time, all is left in gain.
To such a cycle, there is not a one petty thing
As in this seemingly great Power!
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