They Who Speak To Trees

Learning Life Through Conversation

P.G. Barnett
Apr 10, 2020 · 3 min read

I was never a true believer,
of wisdom gained from trees,
They were wooden planks for houses,
Shattered trunks that gave us matches,
They were grown to be cut down,
Their trunks plucked up from the ground,
They gave shade to us and nests for birds,
That was what they did you see,
But my thinking it all changed that day,
I saw them speaking to a tree.

I was young and immature I’d say,
Never bothering to take note,
Of the way that trees all joined with us,
Expecting humans to discuss,
What they’d witnessed all these years.

How they’d grown despite the horrors,
How they’d flourished and grown tall,
To hear their tale we had but to touch,
And listen to them all.

They who speak to trees all know,
It only takes a touch,
Against the bark, a silent pause,
A close of eyes, it won’t take much,
Before the lesson starts.

They’ll tell you how the world began,
And as they breathe so we can live,
They’ll whisper of the fires of man,
They who speak with trees will hear,
Of many things that nature brings,
A wondrous world of serenity,
A peace that only can be had,
To one who learns what trees can give.

I saw them speaking to a tree,
They led me to a clearing free,
Of trees or brush or any grass,
And stopped within the center to say,
“Here we’ll stand, and here we’ll grow.”
They shouted gleefully,
“Come here on the morrow, then you’ll know.
“Come here and then you’ll see.”

I did come back and found the spot,
Expecting them to be,
But all I saw instead of them,
Stood a gigantic growing tree.

I stopped and placed my hands so small,
Against the bark yet rough,
And closed my eyes, then said a prayer,
Hoping it would be enough.
I thought I heard them speak to me,
Voices soft against my thoughts,
“We’re glad you came, and now you see,
“You’ve learned you can speak to a tree,
“More you’ll learn soon enough.”

Before I left that early morn,
I gazed up toward the boughs,
And watched a single leaf detach,
Amazed to see it flutter down,
My outstretched hand it did adorn.

I slowly turned the leaf aside,
Surprised to see it there,
A smiling face formed by each vein,
Beneath the sign, there was my name,
It said, “Take care our friend, take care.”

They who speak to trees are many,
I know that now I do,
And sometimes I will stop and speak,
With many friends with flowery peaks,
Their bark, and roots anew.

These children oaks, and firs and pines,
They all need a friend too,
The trees learn life through conversation,
I do and so do you.

Thanks So Much For Reading

Let’s keep in touch: paul@pgbarnett.com

© P.G. Barnett, 2020. All Rights Reserved.

Dark Sides of the Truth

P.G. Barnett

Written by

A published author enjoying married Texas bliss. Dog person living with cats. A writer of Henry James' stories. Featured In MuckRack. Top Writer In Fiction.

Dark Sides of the Truth

Stories Spawned From The Darker Side Of Reality

P.G. Barnett

Written by

A published author enjoying married Texas bliss. Dog person living with cats. A writer of Henry James' stories. Featured In MuckRack. Top Writer In Fiction.

Dark Sides of the Truth

Stories Spawned From The Darker Side Of Reality

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