Our Silent Companions
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They are there
In the morning, in the evening
With stories rustling in their branches
And scars etched on their barks
Yet how silent they are
Notwithstanding the rustle
Trees, our silent companions
The friends of our souls
They are not just homes to birds
but to the wanderer in us
Their existence, a sanctuary
to the unknotted threads of thoughts
They teach without asserting their power
These quiet trees that give eloquence
to the wind
Their life is one of giving.
Bu şiiri puanla
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