Once upon a time, the Trees could speak
With a shaking breath they start
Whispers wispily rustling their leaves
Somewhat aware of their animated art
As they sigh their branches sway
and all their troubles dance away
Standing solid in the open
Sweeping silently, they stay
With a touch that's just a brush
They fall asleep in morning's hush
They feel the solitude of silence
Always stretching to the yonder
Always reaching to the skies
But never free to wander
