hear the new blue bird whistle out her first song
from the tree that’ll be here long after we’re gone
the curlicue twirl of a butterfly’s grace
watch her work the day away just to stay in one place

it takes an orange-coloured day in a summer-end display
in the wisdom of it all singularity’s so small

hear the twinkle downstream of the green river pour
how it’s never the same as a second before
and you’re filled with a warmth you can barely express
you’re a part of the season no more and no less

it takes an orange-coloured day in a summer-end display
in the wisdom of it all singularity’s so small

why must i yearn to be maddened by a love
so reckless and pure as a call from a dove?
such wonders reflected in a haze of nature’s ways
and orange-coloured days

see the sun’s first rays of the morning to peep
through a gap in the curtains and lull you from sleep