Tree Talk

Ah, if only we were trees, no need for legs or nose or knees, a bright young sapling you would be, a weathered oak might be me. Wren and eagle, they might perch on our branches, we their church, we would entertain hawk or dove among our welcoming leaves of love. Children might frolic beneath our limbs until day is done and sunlight dims, travelers might bark us in the light to find their way when it is night. To our brother trees we might give food and with them we would never feud, before rash actions we would talk and in their shoes we would always walk. And for those who question if one of us falls when no human graces our leafy halls, is there a sound that can be heard know now my friends that “Oops!” is the word.