The Trees Speak

The trees speak of ages past and long ago Lost and forgotten recalled by history written down by some wise sage. All the secrets not revealed hidden lives of soldiers, vagabonds and pioneers Struggling on in silence as ghostly figures in the wood holding on to land and freedom. Shadow figures, bodies and spirits physically long since gone Pounded deep below the surface beneath the roots of trees reborn with each new generation. The images and faces erased now no longer here. Struggles faded far away allowing new ones to rise making way for continuity. The trees know. They have seen it all before born witness to man's savagery. The slaughter of the red man the enslavement of the black the demeaning of the yellow skin Do we remember? White men still struggke to free themselves to blind their heart and souls in search and proclamation of justice, right, equality Therein they lose their touch with nature, brotherhood and God. The trees speak of knowledge and truth of living life fully of past, present and future. It is we who are not listening and we are not listening still.