Season’s Greetings

The season of the willful came to the forest

They ran barefoot and into those trees.

Come to me, squirrel, called a little boy

His hand outstretched to receive the guy  

The season of the willful came to the beach

where there were no barriers,

yet, the girls ran forth onto the water

while screaming in glee. oh, just sea!  

The season of the willful came to the shore

the gush and slush of the water,

broken by the oar out by the bank lay the salient;

one by one, they became radiant