when trees speak

i hear them in the rustle of the moon-penny night… the trees, calling me… whispering to my child-soul to climb and nest amongst old oak branches.

they guard my house like sentry-men, and i stoop before them, awed by majestic roots… i feel safe beneath their canopy of leaves.

i don’t often take time to listen to their hushabye whispers… and soon, with autumn’s frosty fingers, their leaves will tumble like piles of yarn at my feet… so i must take the time to climb, at least within my child-soul, and find fellowship amongst the birds. to rest at the feet of the great oak, and learn from its century-old wisdom.

after all, in but a month, i will have a child of my own… and he too will need to learn the language of the trees.

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2 Comments

  1. Teneale said,

    October 6, 2009 at 2:09 pm

    I love trees so much! If I had to choose one thing in nature that i love the most, it would probably be trees. After all, faeries live in trees!

  2. October 7, 2009 at 5:25 pm

    Beautiful, Emily.

    You’ll be a great mom.


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