The Trees Are Listening - Tim Hicks

[Larry Robinson]

The Trees Are Listening

The trees are listening,
as cells listen,
and we,
as the earth spins its cycles,
wend our way 
through what we don’t understand,
named not by trees,
felt in the rich movement and decay of ourselves.
The trees don’t understand
any more than do we,
for all our words.
Being is.
So much to say.
The trees watch quietly.

We struggle through history, 
brief as a firefly,
blossoming artifacts of aspiration, tools of desperation,
marvelous and astonishing,
in the hereness,
seeking light in the dark, warmth in the cold, 
and, most drivenly, 
knowledge in the mystery,
direction in the wilderness,
forms of beauty and truth and goodness
crafted in the thin atmosphere of our imaginations,
like sand castles 
or stairways to heaven, 
while the trees grow and die.
Destination a hope
driven by the imperative.

For all the love and the music,
the deep philosophy,
the tearful elations 
of our rapturous hearts,
what can we do but go on,
put thumb to the strings of each day,
forget these lines and do good as best we can,
listen like the trees. 

	- Tim Hicks
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://lists.sonic.net/pipermail/poetrylovers/attachments/20230814/26b590d8/attachment.htm>