June 10, 2020
In
Lake Love Letters Project
A Tree Poem: The Riddle
RIDDLE
You can hear our voices in the wind
but we are not the wind.
We lean into the earth,
always filtering what is left.
We hold the spirit of tallness,
of all things impossible with balance.
Even though we belong to the sun,
we are the ocean of green.
You can count our years
inside the rings of our hearts.
We do not die easily,
though we can die quickly.
We are tender of the souls
smaller than we are.
We are the leafed manyness
that will save the world.