The Consoling Language of Trees

I am from the clan of trees
we speak in the language of nature’s hidden tongue
for our souls talk under the ground
in the roots where we are bound
we are held together with the promise of living
we cling in the dirt to hear our language found
from the years of age and circles growing within our core
without a sound we reach the impasse of great distance
to articulate our prophecy to the arbor family
the ash to the maple, the pine to the oak
by gently, ever so gently flowing
through the depths of rock and rim
in waves of whispers that reaffirm
our slivers and branch’s cloak
captured in the shedding of light and elements of soil
climbing and spreading to heaven’s design
our common perfection to refine
we hold one to the other to protect and evoke
our tangle of trials of cold and smoke
through droughts and strife
we speak with quiet magnificence
for the cluster of forests that inaudibly touch
in times of trouble and toil

March 7, 2022
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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Watt Avatar
March 7, 2022 at 11:30 PM
Lonna, I have missed reading your gorgeous and evocative writing. Your tree narrative is simply breathtaking in its creativity and nuance. "We speak with quiet magnificence", amen.
Blodgett Avatar
March 10, 2022 at 9:02 AM
Thank you John. It is good to read your words again as well! Lonna
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