Tree
In the middle of the night, the tree is swaying, clocks are ticking and the clouds are frantic with worry. A tree that is moving back and forth through a great feeling of the air in the middle of a misty night, was the same tree that is moving back and forth through the same great feeling a long time ago. It was once gloomy, once bright, once hasty and always stiff. The tree is happy while clocks are ticking though the clouds are frantic with worry. The tree will eventually change its way; might be happier with itself without the greatness of air. But how can it live thee without the presence of air in its atmosphere? How can it sway thee? How can it dance thee? One tree in the middle of the night - wanting to be noticed, wanting to be wanted, was on the verge of converting itself to a different thing. It is impossible for sure by cause that a tree will always be a tree. It can't be moved to a place or another. It will always be just there, just a tree. Th...