Simplicity
The trees,they rock, to
and fro,
pushed by wind and
covered in snow.
The birds fly to their
strong cold branches,
flying swift and taking,
quick glances.
The bark of the trees are
cold and rough,
but to forest, they are
warm and soft.
The snow on the ground
is littered with twigs,
needles, leaves and
animal prints.
In the morning the colours
are soft,
the air is nice and
weather not hot.
The nocturnal leave and
go to bed,
while the diurnal wake
their sleeping heads.
The birds sing out their
mellow tune,
and the crickets in dawn's
tender croon.
The waves of water crawl
up shore,
they grab for sand and
look for more.
The foamy white capped
rising walls,
gently rise and softly fall.
The sand that's lifted by
the water,
is cool but further away
it's hotter.
The fields of luscious
grasses sway,
and in the meadow
butterflies play.
The herbivores favor the
tender grass,
and carnivores wait at the
edge to trap.
The clouds above them
tenderly move,
as it crosses the great
expanse of blue.
In the healing afternoon,
horses graze and crows
do croon.
The ground below is
cracked and hot,
sometimes it rains, but
mostly not.
The seasons change
throughout the year,
but simplicity stays
always near.
It's the simplicity of
things that lacks,
its absence brings a tougher back.
But to set aside some
time,
to examine the fields and
look to the sky;
would lessen the stress of
the average day,
and help the mind think
and widen its bay.