Secret Language of Trees

Revealed in the soft groans of the ancient ones.

There’s a conversation 
among trees
you only hear 
when they share 
their silence

when you enter
the woods
slowly and softly
and stop long enough
for them 
to forget 
you’re there

photo by George Hoyem

when you enter,
patiently,
and let yourself 
root in
among them

then, subtly,
their voices rise,
their language
revealed in
the soft groans
of the ancient ones,
the cracks and creaks
of the dry branches
of younger ones,
the snapping of dead ones,
the wind blowing 
through their leaves
sending some whirligigging 
to the ground,
strips of shredded bark 
falling through the understory 
and landing lightly below

beneath it all,
clandestinely, 
they whisper 
to each other
through tiny tendrils
shallow in the soil,
seeking connections,
like lovers’ fingers 
finding and entangling,
sharing secrets
and sensing 
each other's needs

all we see 
are the stands of trees,
like soldiers
assembled solemnly,
swaying in unison,
old and young alike,
sharing time and space
with far more grace
than we know how,
sharing their secret language
that we can only hear
when we're silent
among them.