A distraction from time or the destruction of time?

During the course of the entire day

I struggle with time to give value to the things I create

Simple tasks swirl around in my head like leaves on an autumn tree, begging to be taken care of

Time is everything, suspended and no doubt killed

Rather silent, but speaking through the clouds

Art of wise choice is the best currency in circulation

Chances are that the things will finally clear up

Trembling in the branches like impatient birds

Ignoring the environment, opening up to new paths

Openness is what attracts them most

Never stand still, always go to the other side though!