when I was a child
the woods would comfort
me
when things grew dreary
branching out
welcoming my company
when life grew weary
I loved listening to
their whispering leaves
beneath tall shaded canopies
when hiding out
from everything
grieving me
sounds take on their own
life
beneath the trees
insects, birds; small rustlings that intrigue
in the damp and ferny
undergrowth
protecting me
I was reminded of roots and
genealogies
of tributaries and
centuries
the ecstasies, the
tragedies
all springing to life
in my imaginings
as I hid beneath
my beloved trees