The Song Of The Trees

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Poetry / White

I wake up, happy–
although still heavy.
I decide to go walking,
to break the levee–
on my heart.

The leaves whisper to me,
the shy truths of the rains;
tiny truths that fit into a larger frame,
the truths that arose from the depths of the sea,
where the heart of our lands is said to be.

I listen with intent,
as the rustling dies down,
for the end of those pages
is revealed to be torn.

Thus, for the truth as a whole,
I must return once more
to hear the song of the trees,
and the cries of the sea.

The Author

27. Living large. You control how you make another feel, don't take that for granted. Peace, Love, and Positivity.

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