The Language of the Grove (A Poem)

I’d like to know
the language of the grove,
to understand the subtle
conversation of the trees.
To speak without words,
to give and to take
as they need,
to sustain and support
through heat waves and storms –
there’s a special kind of magic
in those ancient roots
and rustling leaves.

18 thoughts on “The Language of the Grove (A Poem)

  1. Beautiful poems!
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