Everything is steel grey in color. The clouds are low but distant in their huddled masses. People hurry home, rushing to their little holes. Why have you become like this? When was the last time you walked with the innocent glee of a child in falling rain? When did you last open your mouth and playfully let the rain drops wash your tongue?
You run away from nature, your mother and ancient cradle. You no longer stand still to rock to her gentle rhythm. You no longer wait to listen to her faint heartbeat. Your life now moves to the insistent beat of the modern machine. Wake up, run, sit, eat, run and sleep. A useless circle of universal uniformity.
But did you notice? There are still some flowers (you trample) on the edge of the sidewalk outside your office door. Take a look at them tomorrow and share their obvious sadness at a world lost in its egoistic roar. There are still some birds (you ignore) calling out for you from outside the window. Open it and listen to the stories they tell of golden days bygone when man and animal were equal. There are still some trees (you overlook) sheltering the last remnants of life on the edge. Stand under them and hear the tales they narrate with the soulful lilt of their swaying branches.
The old days have come to pass, I know, brushing away nostalgic dreamers like me into the dustbins of history.