The Trees

The trees look down at me with grace. Their eyes have seen the violence of men.

The trees look down at me with grace
Their blind eyes hold great wisdom
Their eyes have seen the violence of men
What a life they had to face

Their bows bend in the wind, their leaves shake
With a whistling, whispering lullaby they gently sway
And they stand tall, no matter what comes their way
Down in the depths of the earth their roots lay

They protect me from roaming predators
And shelter me from the rain
They shade me from the blistering sun
They keep me safe, away from pain

They let me climb on their shoulders
And lift me up to the heavens
They eagerly share their view from above
And let others see their great visions

The trees look down at me, old and wise
They've seen the violence of men and yet remained quiet
Not harming a soul unless they harm themselves
With a break of a bow or an eternal silence

Reviews

[Akshita]

This poem has a calming effect just like the trees....you got their essence just right...loved reading it :-)

[The Nameless]

Thanks =D

[Rogue]

A haven in the wood or forest. Lovely thoughts of leafy green coolness and old guardians, wizened with age.
The second stanza.. A bit of jerkiness in the syntax. Sway, way, lay.. A little too rhyming perhaps.

Overall a very nice piece. :)

[The Nameless]

Haha thanks. Yeah, I do admit the rhyming perhaps makes it uncomfortable. Thanks for honesty though, I'll see if I can edit it...

[Carolann Dowsett]

This is so ethereal and dreamy, I love that you see the trees as you do. This is beautifully written.

[The Nameless]

Thanks =D

[Carolann Dowsett]

Welcome :)