Wind In the Trees

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We don't often think of the interplay between the wind and trees. However, without either, life would not exist. This poem describes an imaginary interplay between the two.

WIND IN THE TREES Old Wiley, what secrets will you have to tell me today? Since the beginning of our tryst, you remind me daily of our eternal promises and our clandestine love affair. Throughout the millennium, you have whispered with quiet caresses, soft and gentle upon my naked boughs the secrets of creation. Admittedly, there are the times when you decided to shake me, and quake me to capture my attention. You turned hard and punishing, pulling, grabbing screaming wildly the forbidden mysteries and dangers that threaten your sacred ground. Do not my seeds remember? Years pass, and your messages get played over and over to the reborn generations. It is your way. We stay in our places, bending along with the waves of breaths, forever knowing that with the blows comes the love and the magical interludes of serenity and peace. All our species give thanks to you, brother Wind. You are life, you are death and everything in between. C.A.K. 6-22-2018

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