A whisper, A tear…

And I heard it as a whisper,

Rustled in the leaves,

A tear that came from nothing,

A moment in the breeze.

I felt the warming light,

Lost within the leaves,

Like spots of molten gold,

A shadowed golden weave.

And what did I hear in that whisper,

I barely made out the words,

I strained to listen closely,

To be sure of what i heard.

The tree was being thoughtful,

Reflecting on its years,

It saw the world in silence,

And that’s what made the tears.

For a tree does not know violence,

It doesn’t know how to hurt,

it lives beneath the sunlight,

It eats moisture from the dirt.

So when it sees the sadness,

Caused by those that hate,

All it can do is whisper,

And hope to change man’s fate.

 

 

 

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