On the Love of Trees

In silent woodland stirred whispering leaves, Two trees are talking in velvet green voice, Towards the sun their boughs so gently weave, As in their love far reaching roots rejoice. Beneath the ground they stretch and turn as one, Unseen, unheard yet still the trees embrace, Like lovers courting in the midday sun, Their beauty poised in divinity’s grace. The shady canopy where they stand proud, Their serenity seen in dappled light, As moments held within a thought cloud That drifts upon a breeze of sacred sight. If trees should share the wisdom of their age, They would us tell of love, the heart’s own sage. Form: English Sonnet