Walking in the forest
rustle the leaves
a watchful tree
they listen without even hoping to be
heard
watching
watching without a word
they sing to the earth
sway in the breeze
oh, my beautiful trees!
they long for the people
known as the huggers of trees
for then they can be themselves with
ease
silently they
sway
yawn
Hum
and moan
look at the magnificent form of life
That has grown
till you must walk away and leave it
once again alone
rustle the leaves
a watchful tree
they listen without even hoping to be
heard
watching
watching without a word
they sing to the earth
sway in the breeze
oh, my beautiful trees!
they long for the people
known as the huggers of trees
for then they can be themselves with
ease
silently they
sway
yawn
Hum
and moan
look at the magnificent form of life
That has grown
till you must walk away and leave it
once again alone
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