I. The trees grow and grow and
grow; as if they could
ever reach the sky; as if
they think they could learn to fly
just like the birds.
((But they can't, because they're trees.))
ii. Sometimes, they even sing
and whistle and rustle in the breeze,
harmonizing the perfect melody,
to a tune that tells a story of
their lives.
((But they can't really sing, because they're trees.))
iii. They sway back and forth and
back and forth; dancing to all the
silent songs of the forest; only to
pause just before the chorus, so
they can take a rest.
((But trees don't breath and they don't dance; they're trees.))
iv. And when even the strongest
of trees fall down, you'll be sure
to hear a sound; the sound of
pain and loss and grief; the trees
mourning for their friend.
((But trees aren't people, so trees can't feel pain and loss and grief.))
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
v. Maybe if you'd just close
your eyes and listen to the
silence and the peace; maybe
you could see that it doesn't
matter that they're just
trees; Because they mean
something to me.
