I can feel the grass grow through the boots on my feet.
I can hear the land's age in each tree that I meet.
The flowers rejoice in a dance slow as time.
There is poetry sung in a fern's sunward climb.
The land's very heart is revealed through her trees --
In the spring, she weeps emerald; in autumn, she bleeds;
In summer, she casts back the cloak winter lays,
And grows green in the sun through her long summer days.
I dance with the trees as they gnarl and climb,
Take their rough hands in mine as they blossom and twine.
With the trees, I find peace such as no one else knows,
As they whisper their dreams where the forest wind blows.
Oh, teach me to stand strong, but to bend with the breeze;
Teach me the patience that nurtures each leaf.
Like a tree I'd become, and I'd live without strife
In the wisdom of beauty, and greenness, and life.