By: DALE CRUM

Oh, if humans only knew what trees know.
History has walked—-loved—-and killed
Around them—-under them—-and in them
Oh, if we could plug headphones into a knot
Oh, if we could sit in their shade and listen—-not talk
Oh, how feeble and foolish is this creature called man
They do whisper in the quiet morning breeze
They do show the brevity of man in autumn
In the transition from life unto death
The glory and splendor of that next life
For in their passing, the leaves become most radiant
They raise their voices in hues of flame and passion
Then sling them to the whim of the winter winds
Burial mounds do gather beneath their feet
Man only sees the toil of the raking
By storm do the trees warn by tapping windows
By beating on roofs
By crashing onto cars
By ripping down the wires of lightening
The trees do not always whisper
Perhaps wisdom would be to listen more closely
That they not be compelled to raise their voices?

DC

• This one has my own eye in it. I drew the tear in by hand—it was really tricky to make it look real. I created this using only my own original photos. If you love this one please go see another one of my TREE ART PIECES called “WISE LIKE A TREE”
  http://www.redbubble.com/people/dalecrum/art/20...