Friday, December 6, 2013

I Speak for Tree and Forest

Just because I don't say anything doesn't mean I don't know anything
Rooted here, aging, I can't help but know.
I know when the sun comes and when it goes
I know when the rains fall and the waters flow
I know that lightening strikes, that the winds rage
I know dry spells, scarcity, scorch and scathe

I know thirst, the yearning for life juice
And I know bounty, abundance; wholeness too
I know when the seasons shift
I know when something is amiss

I know fragmentation
Habitation destruction 
Senseless wasteland production
A war against our own womb
I know short-sightedness
Lovelessness turned lustfulness
For power, weapons and control
Beneath this ancient domination
A sad need to be seen
Something missing
A hole needing filling
And for lack of love
They fill it with money
Made out of my leaves

I know injury, trauma
I know grief
I know my sister tree who died next to me
I know dark; and I know light
I know acceptance
And patience
And letting go

I know more than meets the eye
Eyes I have none
But wiser am I
For my blind feeling into earth and sky
With my rooting roots and sensing shoots
Rings in my wood storing stories so true

If you listen
Listen differently
I would tell you
All that I know