Trees

whenever the lustre of my amber glistens, i could feel the price it had exacted on the trees, blood red tears meandering rough and uneven tracks to land where they were kept like a child for a million years they emerge to fascinate us with coruscating tales of the romances with time, lost on the memory of men, the dinosaurs, the first forests, the insects - which now sparkle with such subtlety - they draw us to the heart of their very existence, the million years in the now, solidified, and now dangling right at the door to the heart, our bossom the trees, the trees, so many of them standing tall and proud, as if broadcasting to us if they had not been around, creation would have been at a standstill the trees, the trees, they fuel the world a panacea to foibles rolled into one tall order, - so that our cars run, our kitchen cooks, our umbrella works, the news reach us handsomely wrapped, the chopsticks to pick our food, the clogs to walk and rattle autumn, the medicine to heal our rebellious body, fruits for the seasons, the table for us to write on and a cosy space for the dead to dream on when they stand in a fusion at the break of dawn it feels one has stumbled upon a meditative realm of the highest kind - the orchestra blasting away in them permeates every hidden place - they only help to enhance that robustness and promises of the day the sun channels its recuperative light - leaves that dance, filter the music and the essence of the day trees, trees.... abodes of birds, animals, they tell on the weather, sing the storm before it approaches and whistles to us fine spring tunes trees trees standing so tall, majestic affording a luxuriance to cool ourselves as we brood over our destiny - trees our only saviours as the earth climbs the mercury ever ready to send us into obivion in a spinning fiery hot cauldron second version: whenever the lustre of my amber glistens, i could feel the price it has exacted on the trees, brown red meandering down the barks and onto the soil and for a million years, preserved in the goodness of the earth to give us the infinite light on the pendant the trees, the trees, so many of them all standing tall and proud as if to broadcast to us that if they had not been around, creation would have been at a standstill the trees, the trees, they fuel the world a panacea to foibles rolled into one tall order, - so that our cars run, our kitchen cooks, our umbrella works, the news reach us handsomely wrapped, the chopsticks to pick our food, the clogs to walk and rattle autumn, the medicine to heal our rebellious body, fruits for the seasons, the table for us to write on and a cosy space for the dead to dream on when they stand in a fusion at the break of dawn it feels one has stumbled upon a meditative realm of the highest kind - the orchestra blasting away in them permeates every hidden place - they only help to enhance that robustness and promises of the day the sun channels its recuperative light between the leaves in a playful quest - like pianists dribbling ivory keys - to give to us the best of the day trees, trees.... abodes of birds, animals, they tell on the weather, sing the storm before it approaches and whistles to us fine spring tunes trees trees standing so tall and majestic, shaking and jolting many of us to the solid truth that if not for their presence, the earth that has been climbing the mercury bars, would have sent us into oblivion in a spinning fiery hot cauldron