The Language of Trees
If you could understand the language of the trees
And hear their message through the roots or the breeze.
Comprehend the molecular scents sent across the miles
And see for yourself how a tree really smiles.
Is its life much different than your own expectations?
When,
All living things have Life
Is its own explanation.
An indication that bears a shared trait.
Woven from one tap-es-Tree
With one final fate.
Yet we create the illusion, that only man can feel pain.
Consider for a second
Can a tree do the same?
Does it know the essence of each leaf that falls?
Will it mourn in the winter when it loses them all?
Does it rejoice at birth when a new seed takes root?
Will it celebrate
what it helped create
And fawn over the lil baby tree shoot?
We know it bleeds, but its blood is green.
Still, that doesnt mean its not a conscious being.
Look at your own
Family Tree.
Do you know each branch in its entirety?
Which flowers make you proud with familial pride
And which leaves seem to always be crumpled and dried.
What branch is corrupted from some negative influence
And which limb holds fruit that stays ripe and in bloom?
Do you mark the seasons for reasons of your own
While you watch the maturity of the seeds you have sown.
Just how far from the tree does your fruit fall?
And is there one vine from one time that created it all?
From Genesis to nemesis Weve seen the fruits a tree can bear.
Poetry from Poet Trees
And strange fruit from trees of fear.
When dark bark grew around the ropes
That hung
for so many years.
With so many tears cried in sorrows, joys and pains
If we put it all together and it would fall just like rain.
Tears from heaven
Landing on out stretched leaves.
With Prysmatic sparkles glistening in morning dew.
And shivering in the evening breeze.
You can believe a tree has thoughts
because they represent more than a source for lumber.
You might be the tree and the tree might be you
If you just once took the time to wonder.
I understand this may be out on a limb
maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree
or just blowing in the wind.
But from my perspective, I'm the tree of which I speak
Some of my branches are strong
and some of them weak.
My seed are saplings that will eventualy bloom
My roots run deep beneath the dark earths gloom.
I've born fruit and flowers
both bitter and sweet.
And I've touched many other trees
above ground
and beneath the peat.
I guess a tree "can" speak.
Because it's wants and desires are much like your own
Concern for survival, seed, hearth and home.
Spoken of frequently
but rarely understood
And used as a resourse like just so much wood.
Metaphoricaly mentioned as the source of all life
Even held to blame for tempting Adams wife.
I guess we could comprehend what it is to be a tree any day
if we just thought like a tree
then had something to say.
If you could understand the language of the trees
And hear their message through the roots or the breeze.
Comprehend the molecular scents sent across the miles
And see for yourself how a tree really smiles.
Is its life much different than your own expectations?
When,
All living things have Life
Is its own explanation.
An indication that bears a shared trait.
Woven from one tap-es-Tree
With one final fate.
Yet we create the illusion, that only man can feel pain.
Consider for a second
Can a tree do the same?
Does it know the essence of each leaf that falls?
Will it mourn in the winter when it loses them all?
Does it rejoice at birth when a new seed takes root?
Will it celebrate
what it helped create
And fawn over the lil baby tree shoot?
We know it bleeds, but its blood is green.
Still, that doesnt mean its not a conscious being.
Look at your own
Family Tree.
Do you know each branch in its entirety?
Which flowers make you proud with familial pride
And which leaves seem to always be crumpled and dried.
What branch is corrupted from some negative influence
And which limb holds fruit that stays ripe and in bloom?
Do you mark the seasons for reasons of your own
While you watch the maturity of the seeds you have sown.
Just how far from the tree does your fruit fall?
And is there one vine from one time that created it all?
From Genesis to nemesis Weve seen the fruits a tree can bear.
Poetry from Poet Trees
And strange fruit from trees of fear.
When dark bark grew around the ropes
That hung
for so many years.
With so many tears cried in sorrows, joys and pains
If we put it all together and it would fall just like rain.
Tears from heaven
Landing on out stretched leaves.
With Prysmatic sparkles glistening in morning dew.
And shivering in the evening breeze.
You can believe a tree has thoughts
because they represent more than a source for lumber.
You might be the tree and the tree might be you
If you just once took the time to wonder.
I understand this may be out on a limb
maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree
or just blowing in the wind.
But from my perspective, I'm the tree of which I speak
Some of my branches are strong
and some of them weak.
My seed are saplings that will eventualy bloom
My roots run deep beneath the dark earths gloom.
I've born fruit and flowers
both bitter and sweet.
And I've touched many other trees
above ground
and beneath the peat.
I guess a tree "can" speak.
Because it's wants and desires are much like your own
Concern for survival, seed, hearth and home.
Spoken of frequently
but rarely understood
And used as a resourse like just so much wood.
Metaphoricaly mentioned as the source of all life
Even held to blame for tempting Adams wife.
I guess we could comprehend what it is to be a tree any day
if we just thought like a tree
then had something to say.
