Sound of Trees

by on December 26, 2015 :: 0 comments

I listen to trees.
There are sounds
Living within roots
Knowledge and knowing
Spreading like fingers.
My mortality hit me
As I awaited sleep
I made a prayer…
To see next morning
To see and hear
My tree of choice.
It grows in my garden.
A French tree
That unites me.
To the earth and sky.
I listen, laugh and cry
When my tree whispers.
Poetry allows me freedom
To vent my difference
I hate the chopping down
Of trees, it stills a voice.
A voice that I still crave
It is the call of a universe
I knew long ago
In the land of sighe.
Dancing in circles
Trees gilding silence
Of dance and Druids
As tresses guide the
Fairy longing for life.
Birds come for wisdom
Red squirrel exercises
Sun plays with shadows
As raindrops cry.
The French tree unites
With roots outstretched
To a myriad of forest.
The whispering continues
It transmits to home
It transmits from home
Scattering leaves
And nourishing earth
With longing, stretching
To the sky in jubilation
At being alive.

editors note:

When the Day of days is past, this is the tree for all seasons. Yes! – mh clay

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