<html><head><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><div dir="auto" style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><div class="">Speaking Tree</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><span style="font-size: 14px;" class=""><i class="">I had a beautiful dream I was dancing with a tree.*</i></span></div><div class=""><span style="font-size: 14px;" class=""><i class=""><br class=""></i></span></div><div class=""><span style="font-size: 14px;" class=""><i class="">—Sandra Cisneros</i></span></div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">Some things on this earth are unspeakable:</div><div class="">Genealogy of the broken—</div><div class="">A shy wind threading leaves after a massacre,</div><div class="">Or the smell of coffee and no one there—</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">Some humans say trees are not sentient beings,</div><div class="">But they do not understand poetry—</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">Nor can they hear the singing of trees when they are fed by</div><div class="">Wind, or water music—</div><div class="">Or hear their cries of anguish when they are broken and bereft—</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">Now I am a woman longing to be a tree, planted in a moist, dark earth</div><div class="">Between sunrise and sunset—</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">I cannot walk through all realms—</div><div class="">I carry a yearning I cannot bear alone in the dark—</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">What shall I do with all this heartache?</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">The deepest-rooted dream of a tree is to walk</div><div class="">Even just a little ways, from the place next to the doorway—</div><div class="">To the edge of the river of life, and drink—</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">I have heard trees talking, long after the sun has gone down:</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">Imagine what would it be like to dance close together*</div><div class="">In this land of water and knowledge. . .</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">To drink deep what is undrinkable.</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- Joy Harjo</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""> </div></div></body></html>