(Poem) The Trees Talk to Me by Mary Saracino

Los Altos Trees, photo credit: Mary Saracino

The trees talk to me.

They tell me to slow down,

don’t push it.

let the wind pour through me.

I need to be sturdy enough to bend

gracefully, and yield to powers bigger than me.

If I do not heed their message, I will break.

I can’t find the seed

the core of what I came here for.

I want to crack open and

pour forth

spilling words

cascading sentences

a wild waterfall of paragraphs and stories.

I want to froth like an ocean creating meaning

from the ebb and flow of my ferocious

passions.

But I am parched, hard with the insistence of “NOW!”

The birches watch and smile.

With papery curled eyes

they wait for me to relax and breath.

“Go play,” they say.

“Go play. The rest will come.”

The wind whispers her tender invitation

tickling the leaves with the promise of inspiration.

Out of play

the images will flutter

my heart will dance

and I will freely express all manner of

glorious beginnings.


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2 thoughts on “(Poem) The Trees Talk to Me by Mary Saracino”

  1. Oh Mary, this is so beautiful – and I am in such a unlaying place – I feel stuff looming and wish I didn’t – such an exquisite poem -thank you!

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