The Trees

image source: writing.wikinut.com

Dawn breaks with ethereal light streaming

Through rigid trees and palest cloud

The naked lake, is tranquil, gleaming

Leaves assemble, rustling crowd.

An illumination is the Sun

Trees hum their soul song of the morn

One fleeting moment is the one

With fluttering leaves on crumbling fawn.

When delicate birds sing their song too

The trees rest for a while

To listen to the young ones’ tune

Weaved from freedom and from guile

The trees know though they are ancient,

That youth is the idyllic state

So they hear the tiny birds in patience

Whilst the trees cast the laws of fate

The birds will sigh and end their lives

All eventually

The leaves pass with fluttering cries

No one hears them but the trees.