The Walking, Talking Trees

If a tree could wander, if it could speak,
Pull up its roots where the secrets lie,
I weep for the answers we dare not seek.
Of time and place and why we cry.

Its branches would stretch to the unknown,
Yet in its shade, we would find our rest,
Yet we remain, apart, in silence, alone.
harboring a quiet fear within our chest.

If a tree could wander, if it could speak,
pull up its roots from the earth’s deep core,
What stories, what truths would leak,
Of time’s vast circle, of lives before?

Its branches would stretch to horizons wide,
Gathering secrets from wind and sun,
Yet in its shade, we’d humbly abide,
Craving answers to questions we can’t outrun.

Why do we fear what the roots conceal?
In the leaves, the wisdom of ages, sealed,
Why do we shun what the tree might reveal?
In its bark are the scars we still feel.

Let the tree wander where it may,
and if it speaks all secrets, clear,
let us listen to what it will say.
We may find truths we fear to hear.

And though we weep for what’s been untold,
Through every question, doubt, and tear,
The trees will guide us, to release the secrets we hold,
and the answers to questions will ease our fear.

Let the tree wander through time’s great span,
Speaking in tongues of the ancient and new,
May we have courage to hear its plan,
To embrace the truths both painful and true.

And though its words may draw forth our tears,
Each revelation a mirror held near,
Let the tree’s truth be the light that banishes fears,
For in the knowing, the path grows clear.