Simple is the man who sits outside to sell his wares.
Throughout the day he sits in rain and cold
with a back that aches, legs and fingers cramp,
complaints are few for his eyes have seen what wars can do
and this, simply, he does in order to eat and share
with those for whom he cares.
His wife who bears their children
and makes the wares he sells,
cooks the food they buy
and warms the home they all sleep in,
she truly is the ‘telltale heart’.
The arduous daily tasks are made simple
with smiles and embraces attempting to hide
the struggle and strife of Life’s woes
and man’s soulful lamentations
with its constant struggle of understanding
the creation of our Universe whether of chaos and spontaneity
or intervention from Divinity
and Man’s proclivity of a destructive affinity.
Simplicity is that the sky hovers high,
the wind blows and moves the trees, the flowers and the seas,
birds ride the waves of the wind
and sea ferrying creatures ride the ocean tides,
the stars poke the night with tiny beacons of light
until the moon harkens upon the darken sky.
As time travels and it gathers with delight
all that has been sleeping in the night,
the Sun raises it’s head
and its magnificent arms of light stretch out,
it awakens the simple man.