When Trees Dance

[poetrytalks]

For the love of trees, beings of joy

I pause to write and my heart soars.
Wings of angels brush my awareness,
fill the fresh air with sweetness.
The sky pours rain with constant zeal.
The trees soak up the moisture,
wriggle their roots like toes
for beyond their stillness is a joy that runs deep
and feels as if they’re quivering
with barely contained delight at being alive.
Looking closely, I imagine the bark
is trying not to crack wide smiles.
Surging life force fills unmoving branches
in readiness to burst forth
as bright new leaves in spring.
If trees could dance without the wind,
they’d stand on tippy-toed roots,
twirl in graceful pirouettes,
their boughs sweeping the sky
in flowing waves.
Oaks would laugh at being tickled
under arm-like branches
when squirrels scamper up their trunks.
Firs would leap with glorious abandon
over hills and down dales,
some with chattering squirrels clinging to limbs,
then bend to peek through our windows.
Though today, the trees are content
to envision willowy jetes,
simply joyous to be filled with the inner dance of life.
So don’t be fooled by inactive stances.
Look beyond their tranquil repose
to sense a vibrant ballet.
You may find yourself toe-tapping to lively rhythms,
even whirling around to sensed,
but unheard melodies.
Then, when trees can no longer stand still,
they invite the wind to play.

©2004 Star Kissed Shadows, Divining Poetry, Sher Lianne Christian