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The Trees
written by: Tim Gallagher
10-09-2000

They whisper their prayers
Up to the sky above
Through cloud, past eagle
Past star, past moon
Past sun out, and out
Snap back with me please
Back to the praying trees
With their whispered desires
With their shouted needs

Creaking joints, planted toes
A tree knows stories untold
Unwhispered to the autumn
Sky so gray above their fingers
They have a pact with the lovers
Who crouched underneath
Who carved their names into the trunk
Blood and sap both spilled
Onto the earth below seeping deep

Still they whisper their stories
In language only their Creator knows
He was the One Who planted their toes
And try as I might, sitting underneath
I cannot make out a single word
Of their strange language
But my soul occasionally
Catching a glimpse
Of the glorious Loves born under
Branches of wood
Leaps inside my being
I sometimes understand why
It was a tree
That He
Died upon


Reader's comments

October 09, 2000 - 01:42pm
Tim
I had no idea where I was headed with this poem when I started. I wrote it in one sitting, which creates (in my opinion about my poetry) the best poems. I started out with just a notion of how the wind through the trees makes them speak to God. I'm quite pleased with the result (not to be prideful, just a satisfied pleased) and I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think!
October 10, 2000 - 02:47pm
Rachel G
Wow. I like. Very cool. Nice. Love the ending.
March 18, 2001 - 07:47pm
Dan
Mark 8:24 : Psalm 1:1-3 : Isaiah 61:3 : Matthew 7:16-19
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