blossoming are people
nimbler than Really
go whirling into gaily
white thousands return
by millions and dreaming
drift hundreds come swimming
(Each a keener secret
than silence even tells)
all the earth has turned to sky
are flowers neither why nor how
when is now and which is Who
and i am you are iam we
(pretty twinkle merry bells)
Someone has been born
everyone is noone
dance around the snowman