Seeing Trees
By Gabrielle M
Soft leaves brush, a careful embrace.
They hold me, gently.
Speak to me, whisper secrets.
The tall trees stare down, bark crinkled like the wrinkles of a smile.
As I sit I look…
up
up
up
up
till my gaze can go no further.
How old are you? I ask
They reply with…
soft breezes that ruffle my hair, sighing. The faraway calls of birds and their laughs.
As I stand and walk away,
from this place,
this sacred place.
The wildflowers sway
back and forth
I breathe deep, inhaling the scent of the bush, of life
These trees have seen everything. Fire, flood, creation, destruction... Everything.