The Restless Oaks

 

There’s a song in the wind 

And the trees know the words

They respond in kind as it moves through their leaves.

Willows weep and maples bend;

Aspens quake and the birch trees bow their heads in fear;

Old snags refuse to yield as branches fly,

And the restless oaks

Begin to dance.

 

There’s a song in the wind

And the crickets join the chorus.

Birds hush their merriment when the wind begins to sing.

Wildlife pauses and creation listens

To the haunting, heavenly melody that pauses on each leaf;

Spark of gold brings inspiration to the wails,

And the restless oaks

Begin to dance.

 

There’s a song in the wind

And it penetrates walls of residence.

Symphony cannot be stopped by steel and man-moulded wood.

Human ears fly away or flock

To the primitive yet intricate refrain of fairy and fae:

Alluring, bewitching the souls who attend.

And the restless oaks

Begin to dance.

 

There’s a song in the wind

Transforming:

Moaning and mournful; yelping and crashing,

Heedless and hostile with cymbals and flashing.

Ebbing and sighing;  gentle and quiet,

Repentant and peaceful with whispered regret.

The song, long-rehearsed, fades into the dawn.

 

There’s a song in the wind 

And the trees know the words

They respond in kind as it soothes rumpled leaves.

Whimsical willows spring back to life;

Aspens chatter and scatter fresh sunlight below;

Old snags welcome songbirds, proclaiming new day

And the restless oaks

Still dance on.