The Whispering of the Trees

I wonder if the trees get nervous when they are being stared at,

or if they start to panic when the wind rattles their leaves

I wonder if they shiver as the monsters of the night skim past their branches,

or if the cold shakes them to their roots.

I wonder if they feel alone amongst a field of friends,

or if they worry their leaves aren’t bright enough.

Do they ever get sick of the rhythm of life,

or the song of the birds,

or the rushing of the river.

Do they stand in silent misery or simplistic joy?

What would it be to understand nothing but joy and peace?

As I lay against their roots and connect to their leaves,

I wonder if they wonder the same things about me.