The Trees

Here the silence is not heavy, not lonely,

because I am not alone.

Here the darkness can’t frighten me, can’t hurt me,

because the trees live on after dark.

Here the rain is not miserable, not melancholy,

because here,

embraced by the forest,

in a bed of grass as soft as silk,

the rain whispers its secrets

to me like an old friend.

Comfort can be found

in the moist soil beneath bare feet,

in the sea of stars blinking down at us with recognition,

in the trees, old, and wise, and unflinching in their majesty.

In the silence,

in the dark,

in the cold.

Here lives a tranquillity as scarcely found elsewhere,

and I wonder what it would be like

to live among the trees.