Wedgewood Park Afternoon
Through all my youth I didn’t learn the language of the trees
I couldn’t hear the words to the poetic songs they would sing for me
When I became still enough to listen to the music of the earth
I learned of transformation, regeneration, and rebirth.
What I didn’t know, while true to my childish indiscretions,
were the many truths I’d learned from them, the many rough hewn lessons.
My roots ran deeply through rocky soil, building bridges of emotional gaps
My branches raised up high with deep green leaves fed by spirit’s sap
I was taught the ancient tongues of the oak, elm, maple, birch,
embraced in laughing drumming beats the circumference of my worth
I am a child of the forests, although youth I can no longer claim
I will honor my tree kin’s body; their face; until the earth embraces me again.