I see the promise in Their eyes
They are beautiful and terrible, reaching for Me
and I writhe as the sound of a falling tree shatters My skull,
My heart
but They do not hear it
many trees have been felled in Their honor
They have been deaf to them all
but perhaps I have been deaf as well
surrounded by My trees for so long
their enveloping sounds stifling sensation
in a commanding silence
My breath, the wind
My tears, the rain
My laughter, the rustling of leaves
harmony,
an ancient song rising
it is My own forest
complete
within it, I can breathe
but when I am courageous
and take Their outstretched hands
to guide Them down the quiet path
towards the heart of My forest
They choke
foreign and vulnerable,
smothered by My strange trees
and the ancient song rises
and fills My senses
until I forget Myself
and They flee, watching as I fly into the singing trees, the wild, the dark, the green
and I prowl and thrash and feast
and live
under the boughs
under the stars
alone
in My tranquil woodland cage
They reach for Me still
but I cannot leave
not for Them
not even to save Myself
from the trees
So I wait, deaf in My forest
fumbling in the dark
until I find one of Them
who can breathe beneath these trees
beneath these stars
One who can call the heart of My forest
Her Home