Over there, there is a tree,
among the other trees,
beneath the sky, above the ground,
they simply stand amidst the breeze.

I alone stand with them,
and they alone with me,
their falling leaves leave silently,
and yet my ears can hear them speak.

The silence overwhelms me,
the flowing of the wind has touched my ears,
seldom have I found a greater joy,
than sitting quietly and feeling nature near.

Lazy clouds are floating past,
and there against the sky,
that greedy tree demands the sun,
and reaches ever higher.

Shortly comes the rustle of the wind,
then the water on the lake begins to break,
but, it's only for a moment,
and soon the sudden movement,
disappears, and only leaves it's lazy wake.

The squirrels gather nuts,
I only ask they let me be,
the colors fall around my house,
such beautiful debris.

It's slow and easy movin',
I love this time of year,
a bit of sorrow that the green is gone,
but, then white wonderland grows nearer.

Barry Van Allen

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/slow-easy-movin/