By MAYA GREEN
Let the stories be told,
that trees are us:
Myths and tales of old,
Yes, they tell on us, for us.
The trees were here before,
And will still be here for more;
For far much longer, than all of us.
So keep the stories a-coming,
Yes, keep the myths a-singing;
For they tell us of the trees,
Through whose eyes, we see,
And with whose ears, we are hearing;
These myths and tales, told of the trees.
For that’s how it’s meant to be,
And long after we are gone, so shall it be.
Yes, away we’ll be from the scenery,
But here to stay — the trees will still be,
That much is clear, in nature that we see;
Rustling in the winds, whispering free.
