Some of us were born in the coolness of spring, a fresh beginning,
Born with the lambs and the chicks, a reminder that even the coldest winters will end
Some us were born in the summer, in the midst of the heat and the glaring sun,
Born in light dresses and shorts,
With laughs like the tinkling of the wind chimes bought in the gypsy markets
Some of us were born in autumn,
We were both to catch the leaves that fall and to save all from the melancholy of the season,
We were born to be the clever ones, to lead the way for the final season of hope
The last of us were born in winter,
Conceived in a passionate rage during the warmer months, we were born to bring families together, to be the best present anyone could ever receive
We were born in flurries of ice, wrapped in blankets to shield us from the treacherous cold