Cool Mountain Mornings,
and cold summer streams.
Awoken by squabbles and chirps,
rustling and racket from the nearby bush.
I emerge from my cocoon.
Piercing through the pines,
the sun darts and dances through needles.
A refreshing breeze blows in
And brings with it revitalizing drafts.
The forest invites everyone to stay.
Dusk falls on the mountain,
and a dim fire is sparked.
Igniting feelings of warmth.
I drift asleep to the crackles of a blaze,
hoping to remain here forever.