I think I like it most
when I sit amongst the trees
I listen to them talk
Soft whispers on the breeze
They speak of things we can not know
From whence the wind comes & where it must go
They speak of our Earth
Thier living mother
They speak of the Moon
Her distant Lover
They speak of the Sun
His warming Smile
They warn us of serpents
"Beawre their guile"
All things can be Learned
If you Please
If only One
Would hear the Trees
Mark
A mage for the age
