156. June 5th
The world has been painted green,
Summer is coming, so it seems.
Everywhere look so new,
Nothing now is left askew.
The streams flow fast as if refreshed,
It meanders onwards to the end.
It ripples over the small rocks,
And gushes through the deep valleys.
The sun beats down strong as a giant.
It glares at the world with its white-hot fire.
Over eight light minutes from here,
We still feel the heat so far away.