Dancing trees

So times are changing
How can this little kid comprehend the magnanimity of today
Or the chaos that engulfs the innocent
His mind is still overwhelmed by the swaying trees
He looks up, baffled and asks

“Why are the trees dancing”
“Why are they dancing when they hear no music”

Such innocent; still captivated by the beauties of life
Such virtue; still budding
Such curiosity; still ablaze
How ones heart desires this youthfulness
That one should marvel at the patterns of flowing water
Or the intricate painting of an apple
Or the dance of the butterfly
Or the changing taste of oranges
This, does my heart desire
To be able, of time, to pause and wonder
At the  . . . at the dancing trees
To wonder at the tress that dance to no music
And hopefully to dance like the trees to no music
A dance in celebration of the loss of restrains
A dance in celebration of an obscurity of doom
A dance in celebration of a disavowment of worries
A dance to celebrate a keenness of beautiful
A dance to celebrate the innocence and virtue, reborn

How I wish I could marvel at the dancing tree
The tree that dances to no music
This will bring me joy


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