"Swish and Sway" – echoes the recurring refrain and rhythm.
"The Tree Remains" – emphasizes permanence amidst change.
Trees
If you were a tree,
What kind would you be?
Mighty like an oak?
Tropical, or evergreen spruce?
A seasonal tree that moves with the rhythm—
From bare twig
To bud, flower, or leaf,
To full canopy coverage,
Only to drop them all again,
And watch them fall.
They swish and sway,
Following you wherever you go.
The mycelium communicates beneath the soil—
IMAGINE THIS:
Under space, it’s all around,
Its trunk firmly planted in the ground.
Tree roots whisper to their surrounds,
Deciding where their babies should grow.
They move around,
TESTING THE GROUND,
Deciding which ones they feed
And which ones they don’t.
Lying dormant or full of life,
They spring from the earth.
Seasons repeat,
All things change,
But the tree remains.
Whether it be
Oak,
Holly,
Pine,
Eucalyptus, or Lime—
As if frozen in time.
We are born,
And then we leave.
But trees remain,
Helping us breathe.
They swish and sway,
Growing incrementally every day—
Not something we see,
Because we are not as mighty
As a big tree.
Trees affect our every day.
They swish and sway.
We stand beneath them
TO SHADE US FROM SUN.
We run to them
To protect us from rain.
We touch their bark
To feel whole again.
We kick the leaves
In October’s flame.
A canopy of greens and browns,
Oranges and reds—
Medicinal, ornamental,
Tiny, huge,
With a big Almighty.
There’s an automatic glow
From the trees that flow,
Swish and sway,
As we follow the leaves
That fall with the sands—
Gold, burgundy, mustard,
Neon orange, and pinks.
Part of the landscape
That draws our eye.
So many trees—
What would you be?
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