literature

Forgive Us?

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Swiss-Dilettante's avatar
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Literature Text

Trees are crying leaves of brown,
and the winds caress them,
hum to them.
Its touch is warming, like a breath of sun,
and it's voice is soft, tender as a
strum of the harp.

But the wailing continues,
and the sky responds by
adding its own voice, own tears.
And the rain is cold, cold.

Numbers dwindling,
trees gather to mourn.
Oak, Willow, Elm,
it all matters not.
For when volcanoes erupt,
their pride is forgot.

Their children play at war,
tell them they are "sorry,"
beg for their forgiveness,
and go back for more…

But trees are strong,
and the world is huge,
and the world is huge,
while the babes are seedlings,
just sprouting forth,
and Mother would be happy
just to see them live.
This is the longest poem I've ever written. I'll need to edit a lot,
but for now, I hope you enjoy. :)
© 2012 - 2024 Swiss-Dilettante
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