Pages Are Leaves

A tip of the hat to a direct qoute from William Shakespear. "And the trees shall be my books"

  There's a tree in the air

and I don't care how it got there

Nither does it, the tree you see,

because when it looked down

at the ground all around

all it could see was you and me.

 

  There's a tree in the air

and I didn't care how it got there.

Niether did it, the tree I see,

because when I looked up

at the air up there

all I could see was the humongus tree.

 

  I wanted to ask,

how the tree got there

but it's a tree, it had no lips to speak with.

Nor did it have ears to hear me with, this tree you see.

It wanted to ask about the ants

and the massive hole in the ground.

 

  I wanted to ask

what the tree could see down here.

It couldn't have been much,

because it wanted to know so little, this tree.

It did however ask about youand ask about me.

 

  I know this tree had no ears, its a tree!

But I told it the hole was where it,

the tree, used to be.

I said the ants were looking for it

they lost their home.

 

  I moved around the other side of the oak,

because I figured it would block the wind from my smoke.

Then on the tree I see a heart with a name.

I remember thinking, hmm, there's only one name.

Why didn't they finish it? Fill in the other name!

 

  Oh look, I said to the tree

There are hearts all over you that I didn't see.

Well they where all carved there one at a time,

but yours is missing and I guess so is mine.

My Name is William, I think yours is Oak.

 

  I look up in the sky

and there is a treein the air

It doesn't matter how it got there

Nor does it matter its name.

I'm not sure what the tree wanted for me,

but I looked up at it to say Thank You.

Thank You for shading me from the noon day sun.

 

  There is a tree in the air.

I looked around at all of the hearts,

and all of the pieces, with none of the parts.

How is this possible I asked myself?

The tree didn't know so it grew silent and still.

Your roots have all been torn asunder

Reminds me of arms and legs akimbo, so really I wonder.

 

  I never saw this tree before untill today.

This tree was never hear, where did it come from?

I know nothing about it, nothing at all.

I just wish the tree never slips from my mind.

I just wish the tree would descend, but it's a tree.

How did it get there?

 

  It's not a tree, it said to me.

I'm a book, see take a closer look!

So this floating tree extended a leafy branch,

each leaf coverd in words, thousands of them.

It wasn't just a book

It was an entire collection

of lost and nearly forgotten tales.

 

  This tree, this page and book, this journal,

held in its cloraphile, forgotten lore of the past.

And now the words we've yet to write.

This tree said to me that it was like this

from the day it was planted.

Its branches ever reaching towards the words above.

Its leaves ever filling with all the words of love.

 

  There is a tree in the air

and I don't know how it got there.

But I added my name to the tree just the same.

Somewhere on one of these leave is my book

Somehwhere there is a garden full of these trees.

And the pages shall be my leaves!

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Please feel free to tell me what you think!

Reviews

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

a beautiful piece

[Kenneth The Poet]

Nice work.

[Helpless]

i think this is an excellent piece of art!