Walking through a wooded path

I'm in the woods.
The trees whisper to me.
The birds giggle with excitement as they wake.
The leaves dance with joy as their friend, wind, pushes them toward the tree branches.

I'm oblivious.
I have mine own problems.

I'm in the woods.
Working on a problem.

I don't see the magic.
I can't witness the beauty.
Until I reflect after it is over.
Is it ever too late?

I'm in the woods.
The trees don't talk to me,
I don't listen.
The birds giggle, not letting me in their jokes.
I don't laugh with them.
The leaves pirouette around not asking me to join them
I don't dance so they leave me out of their fun.

The wind caresses my face.
It takes away my breath.
I curse, or turn away not wanting to be touched.

I'm oblivious.
I have mine own problems.

The trees, birds, leaves and wind play while they watch me work.
They do not worry for us,
fore they know eventually we will join them
In life or death we will whisper, giggle, dance and play.

The question is WHEN?