They speak to us: the oak, the poplar, ash and elm;
yet what they say we notice less than what they do.
The air we breathe, the soil we till, the winds, the rain...
The leaves, nuts, blooms, the symbiotic life below...
All that mycelial reciprocity - life
begetting life from earth, water and sky. The world
made green and good by arborial alchemy.
We vaguely know all that; yet when trees speak the words
are lost in human hubris, self-absorption - lost
in what we want or need or think we want and need.
We always act like we, not they, had done the most
to make this stone a home. The message of the trees:
Grow, give, gain, give again. Die and keep on giving.
Grace is granted by generosity. Give to all that's living.
This is a beautiful and thought provoking sonnet!! And a good title x