And the trees talk to me in their whispered voices.
Can’t you hear their plea?
Their roots run deep through Earth and time
Their hearts beat as one
Their Arms reach out to the heavens above
In the palm of their hands, they hold the sun
Their very breath is life.
Yet lonely is this voice,
lost among a forest of humanity.
We heed not their cries. We listen not to their warnings.
They are dead to us; objects to use- a means to an end.
Yet, I hear their plea;
I feel their pain stretching back generations
“The end is neigh,” they whisper
as they wither away leaf by leaf.
“We hold up the sky,”
“If all of our arms shall fall,
than the Earth shall surely die.”
So, fellow denizen of this planet.
Let us heed their sage words
and curb our selfish desires.
Either we shall live with a few wants
or the Earth shall want for a soul forever.