
Beneath the hush of moonlight’s silver gaze,
The waterfall descends in whispered streams.
Its voice is caught in night’s unfolding maze,
And stitched into the fabric of our dreams.
The ancient tree leans inward as we sleep,
Its branches curved to cradle breath and thought.
It listens while the forest shadows creep,
To truths the waking world has long forgot.
No tongue it speaks, yet still it understands—
The grief we hide, the prayers we never say.
Its silence moves like time through distant lands,
And answers in the shifting light of day.
So come, and rest where stars and silence meet,
Where echoes bloom like flowers on the air.
The Listening Tree will feel your heart’s soft beat,
And hold it in its roots with gentle care.
~ Morgan C. Morgan
Writer of light, shadow, and the stories between.
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That is such a beautiful poem. Trees seem to have a soothing effect of our souls.
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Thank you 🙂 I love trees :D>..well, I love all nature, but yes, trees seem to speak to our souls.
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