The view from my desk — every morning I say thank you to the trees and the river, the sky and the squirrels and Mother Nature.
In The Language Of Treesby Louise Gallagher
The language of trees
lays buried
deep within their roots
digging into the earth
stretching their arms
in search
of whispers of life
within the cracks and crevices
of time lying still
beneath Mother Nature’s soiled covers.
The language of trees
is felt
rising up through crenellated bark
and rugged trunks
standing tall
against the wind
hurling obscenities
at their unwillingness
to give up ground
to its demands.
The language of trees
is heard deep
within the sibilant whispers
of its leaves
telling stories
to the birds and bees
and scampering squirrels
who clamber along its branches
in search of place to hide
through winter’s storms.
The language of trees
is written
everywhere.
We must listen
before it’s too late
to hear
their roots calling us
to help them
stay grounded.
A Poetry Affair 