To be a tree

My back against a tree

as my mind aimlessly wanders

Til at last

I begin to ponder.

Oh how I love

how the wind caresses my skin

and how it swirls

The leaves into a spin.

What does the tree think

of this silent whisper?

Of the whipping air

when it grows crisper?

I wonder about

the life of a tree

who never speaks

nor have eyes to see.

Yet they all

have a story to tell

wrapped up inside

its strong bark shell.

View their branches

and ponder their shape

look at the vine

of which the trunk cannot escape.

See their leaves

their various shape and color

Consider its life

does it know dolor?

I wonder what it’s like

to be a tree

I wonder what it’s like

To just be.

© Shadow

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