❝ the trees are talking
i hear them on windless mornings
before even the birds are singing.
they whisper to each other
in their slow and ancient voices--
(i hold my breath, strain my ears,
hope to decipher their intricacies
their soft susurration
their slow sweeping symphonies)
—of sun and soil and slumber
of secrets and sorrows
of storms and solemn sighs.
the trees are talking
l i s t e n. ❞