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.
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