Green Rivers, Green Lakes

Temperatures rise, mud replaces 
Icy surfaces, solar waves penetrate
My heart weeps, watching changes
Too early and all is imbalance
Much too early, hold off, hold off

A perfect system was slow changes, one leveled
Hundreds of kilometres of flat plain
Water clear, grass holding tight, matting the earth
The soil held in place, man nowhere of any account

Trees grew, shoulder to trunk, man small stuff
Tight, hundreds of kilometres, across ontario
South to north, of rolling hills, lakes, boulders, black-flies
No more, no more, trees gone, water foul, they raged through
Those men, stripping your beauty, too early, too early.

But the sun is rising and men are in disarray.
The gardeners are soon to arrive
With seeds and hoes, brawn and brain
But especially the love, the spirit of the trees
Come back, the goodness of the plains