if we could talk to birds

what would they say 

would it be the arrival of spring

each twittering chatter 

a whistle or two

heading into summer

such commotion

and synchronicity 

as we fall into autumn 

are they still with us

the weather becoming colder  

in winter time

Moon over the mountains

The moon rises

and transforms the night 

its light descending

shaping the valley

each step a mile

from sunrise to sunset 

there lies the moon

reflected in a pool of light

our dream of happiness 

lasts us through the night