The Trees

The Trees

Sometimes I tell my sorrows to the trees
and they shudder as if in understanding.
Sometimes they sway as in nodding their heads
and it comforts me knowing I am heard.

Sometimes I sit at the base of their trunks
and look up into their long flowing branches.
Sometimes I wonder if they see me there
nestled underneath them with my journal.

Sometimes I give them big tree hugs
because I need a hug every now and then.
Sometimes I feel like they hug me back
and they know my pain and hurt.

Sometimes they give me their kindness
with the energy and light that flows through them.
Sometimes they help me heal and forget
what it was that was troubling my mind.

Sometimes I wonder if they are ever thanked
or appreciated for their efforts for so many years.
Sometimes I wonder why they never feel resentment
or anger at us when we do nothing but take from them.

Sometimes I ask them how they are feeling
because it is only polite to ask.
And sometimes I imagine them smiling
because they have not been forgotten.