Tree
Oh tree,
would I linger under thee.
To bask within your shade,
would leave me feeling free,
to sit, caressing leaves.
Oh tree,
how good it feels to breathe,
where water drips from top my sleeve,
I take my next reprieve.
To feel your bark beneath my touch,
tis more then I believe,
tis more then what my senses gifted me.
Oh tree,
what countless ages have you stood upon the green,
basking in the sunshine air, impervious to breeze.
What knowledge lurches through your roots,
and what you must've seen,
I wonder what your wisdom thinks of me.
Oh tree,
without you, where are we?
Would air still flow for us to breathe?
Would fruit still bear for us to eat?
I contemplate these questions three,
and pray to find no answers bleak.
Oh tree,
there be no entity personifying peace, but thee.
Sincerest gratitude and love there be,
for those dwelling 'pon the green,
who take all life upon their bosom and ween,
with love so keen.
Oh tree,
why are they killing thee?
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