The tree sheds it leaves

As I shed my skin

When the wind drifts

Through her leaves,

She sings and I listen.

 

 

The soaring bird swoops to perch

On her lush, green leaves to rest.

Beneath the shade she lends,

I too, pause my wanderings to rest.

She sings and we listen, I and the bird.

 

 

And the machines roar beneath

Monstrous things with sharp teeth

That bite and tear and snap and kill

All the beasts above, below, in the sky and sea

And the green, my family, the tree sings.

 

 

You there, you; yes you, you there!

Aren't you one of them? Why then—

How dare you sit and stare

At my kin with sympathy when you don't care!

She screeches, leaves waving wildly in the wind.

 

 

And her agony reverberates through me

Resounds through every fiber of my being

And out again into everyone around me

And beside me and in front of me

And behind me but they don't listen.

 

 

They cannot even hear 

And even if they did, as she said 

They wouldn't even care!

You there! You! Yes, you there

Who sits as I do. Who sits to read.

 

 

Who sits sometime beneath a tree

For shade, for rest, for calm, for peace

Open your ears, my friend, and listen.

Can you hear it? The earth's desperate pleas?

Her cries of despair, of grief, of agony?

 

 

As trees shed

Their leaves, we shed

Our skin. As beasts bear 

Their young, we rear

Our kin. As they

Live so shall we and when they

Perish, so shall we, the earth sings and I listen.

 © Curiousloi