It's The Nature Of Melt-Snow Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

All things come, all things go,
It's the nature of melt-snow,
It's the nature of a feather to swirl
To dance on the wind and curl
It's the nature of a seed to flower.
And wilt away during its final hour.
It's the nature of a flame to alight
To linger and stirrup fears-of-fright
It's the nature of love to heal.
The nature of hate is an ongoing ordeal
All things come, all things go,
It's the nature of any river to overflow.