Simplicity Poem by Olha Bieznos

the wind was dissecting
the twigs to the leaves

the wind and the tree were not
aware of each other
or maybe they were
more aware than i am

standing there under
the ribs of the clouds
they were whispering about
time

and a girl who rushed by,
not knowing that
time is endless; and a man,
whose wrinkles they
were trying to smooth
with some hope; and a minute that lasts forever
and stops only once,
when there's a need
to reset the clock
for a new countdown.

they were talking of simplicity,
of not waiting for spring to come
but just knowing it will.