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written by Geoffrey Johnson, May 2008 Trees were not always As they are thus Swaying languidly in tranquil daze Long ago they were ferocious And roamed wild through the lands Feet of root and strong leafy hands
Army of wood: Oak, Maple, Teak Cedar, Beech, Birch and Pine Then one day under a Mountain Peak The trees grew weary and lay supine Yet mountain it was ancient Powerful and not complacent And while all the trees slept The Great Mountain sang a song Quietly the words crept To the Earth and the words bound them So they could move no more And Lo! When the trees had awoken They saw themselves snared The Great Mountain it had spoken And their incarceration would not be spared But the Great Peak was not cruel And sent forth through the forest Placating wind soft and cool Soon the trees lost interest In moving, jumping, fighting The dirt felt soft, clean, and good To their knobby feet This was their home, where now they stood Wanderlust replete The trees grew old Under sunlight of gold With their towering mountain friend And this is the way That it will always be Until the very end.
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