Specifically, from the content of the article, spring is a verb.

With bold and unrestrained colors, listening to the children's frolicking, time gently bid farewell to winter and ushered in the beginning of spring rain. The early bird is still sleeping, the new swallow is still in the south, and last year's green leaf safflower yawned vaguely. In March, with the help of seeds and wind, we crossed mountains and rivers, farmland and rivers, like a piece of Changle, and arrived at the Baihua Garden in spring, which gave birth to the drums of all life jointing. Spring is a verb, clear and agile, stirring the hibernating heart. People who have been curled up for a winter can't wait to rush to the warm sun in early spring to brew the honey of life together. Young people looking for their dreams, with sunshine and ideal sails, go to the other shore to write New Year poems. Spring is a verb. With expectation and a little blessing, the spring breeze in Bai Letian will come. In the philosophy of coming and going and every season, it is accompanied by Du Fu's Good Rain and Lu You's Spring Rain. Grasping the soil to keep warm, grass roots have become the hardest image in the world. Above the roots, sharp energy braves the cold of late spring and grows every day. Han Changli's Mao Mao rain in the sky shed one prose after another. On the earth, the life of grass began to be divided into lines. Those pale emotions that are "far away but not near" are the most tenacious connection between the lines, and the expression of longing for the spring breeze will tremble even if the heart is like iron. Spring is a verb. Early in the morning, I opened the window, and the breath of being close to nature instantly overflowed my whole body. Spring rain and soil seem to breed spring. In the performance of ancient strings, the old seeds in the field make the desire to grow strong. The mind of the cloud, the smile of the water, and all the love lying in the depths of the earth are all modifying a verb, making the spring rain drunk into a glass of wine in the spring breeze and watering the beauty of heaven and earth. Spring is a verb. When Miss Spring waved her hand, the snow-capped mountains became thinner, the fields became new, the streams became fatter, and the plowshares became brighter. A stream that has been sleeping for a winter, dreaming of being integrated into the river and imagining the heroic running; Sleeping for a hundred days, dreaming of wearing green clothes and embracing green happiness; The bird that has been depressed for several days dreams of flying to the blue sky and talking freely with the white clouds. The river was lingering, and the quacking ducks written by Hui Chong in the Northern Song Dynasty were driven into the river at dusk by Su Dongpo's poems, only flapping the news of spring. Spring is a verb that brings too many dreams and pursuits to everything. A love that consumes everything, red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple, all kinds of colors are staged as scheduled. Pick a peach blossom, let it blush your face, let laughter overflow the clear lake, and light the gray Shan Ye. Spring is a verb, just like a seed that needs enough sleep. Burying is a basically fixed procedure before spring blossoms. The scenery and emotions that hibernate in the soil need some strong shouts to wake up. Birds rooted everywhere, deep in the dark soil, searched for their familiar ears again and again. A group of tireless winds, on Wanshui Mountain in Qian Shan, keep running at a fast and slow pace, urging and leading the festivals in memory. Wild geese pluck their hair. In spring, they travel north and south with their relatives. Their laughter supported by wings in the sky, like a tall tree, is planted in the eyes of travelers one by one. Spring is a verb. When we step into spring and meet the rhythm of spring breeze, we step into a dream season. In this season full of hope, as long as we work hard on the earth, sweat can make seeds take root and sprout, and we can see that life and hope are as green as spring.