Trees swaying peacefully and silently in an afternoon breeze,
making them look alive, dancing in rhythm and time with all
of nature.
A wonder that people cannot see for they are too wrapped up
in their daily agendas, a tragedy of the human race, being
to busy to enjoy the simple, little things in life.
Always seen by this poet to be more important than agendas
and materialistic things, writing and describing nature,
silently watching it's performance, placing it in a poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem