My day is filled with tasks to be done
When you become an adult, there is no time for fun.
As busy as busy bee’s flying from flower to flower
I run like a chicken with its head on fire.
Laundry to wash
Dishes to load
Appointments to make
Even if I leave one task, I feel like my life is at stake.
With an endless list of things to do
“Being busy” has become my life’s main goal.
The chirp of birds catches my attention
Finally I walked out to the sun to ease my tension
Flowers blooming everywhere,
Emerald green grass dancing in the air,
Spring is here, and I finally see
That nature gets everything done without any hurry.
Life unfolds in silence beautifully.
Why do I then put myself in such a misery?
Let me put my legs up and smell the breeze
After all isn’t life made of these kinds of small memories?
Nimmu's 
This is so true! A lesson we need to learn and apply! Beautifully written too.
I could feel myself relax half way through the poem. I have been pondering often lately at how productive busy really is. Seems its chains, not the freedom we think it will be.
Yes! This is my life. I am a chicken with its head on fire. Even now, I’m typing while my kids pepper me with requests and the kitchen is a mess and the laundry needs folding and, and, and, . . .
But there is also a kitten to cuddle and April snow to marvel over. I guess we have to train ourselves to take a moment and breathe.