I hear them calling me, the ancient trees,
and so I go, stepping into
a world of green,
a world of green,
feeling my heart slow,
knowing I am seen.
knowing I am seen.
Here is beauty, here is peace.
Here is the state of simply Being
with the Standing People
who keep us all alive.
The wind whispers soft songs
in my ear. I hear the rustling
of small creatures in the bush.
Above, an eagle circles,
his flight like song -
a being who already knows
that he belongs.
Listen, the poet says.
Listen with your heart.
I hear the voiceless ones,
I hear the earth
singing her song of growth
and of re-birth.
Then all thought falls away.
The peacefulness is all.
We breathe together.
May these trees
never fall.
never fall.
Thanks for hearing with your heart. And slowing mine in your trees.
ReplyDelete(Brendan)
ReplyDeleteIf only more could hear with their heart...for that is the way of mother earth and the trees.
ReplyDeleteThis is written like a meditation, Sherry. Beautifully penned.
ReplyDelete