The Language of Trees

Come into the whispering wood,

Where ancient trees have stood,

Speaking in their silent tongue,

Since before we were young.

Listen to the wisdom they share,

Engraved in weathered bark with care.

Undisturbed they watch and wait,

No hurry to their steady gait.

Sturdy trunks still spiraling high,

Though years pass fluttering by,

Teaching us of constancy,

Of patience and serenity.

Boughs that bend but do not break,

Leafy limbs that stories take,

Of resilience, of change endured,

All hardship and drought cured.

Twisting turns above the earth,

Roots that give the seedling birth,

The old forest knows and understands,

Each small seedling's dreams and plans.

So wander quiet under the cover,

Of these standing giants, time's lover.

Listen close to their voiceless choir,

Ancient truth they never tire.

Let the forest heal and speak,

Wisdom sent to those who seek,

Something shared but never told,

Stories centuries old.