Was it black magic, hypnosis, witchcraft or treecraft? The magical evening had cast its spell on me, in the forest. I could not just see and smell the trees, but hear them. I was drunk on their beauty and wisdom. I had often wondered why my grandmother told me not to pluck flowers, after sundown. I suddenly knew the answer, as I heard the trees sharing experiences. It was their time to socialize.
The willow was trying to trace its offspring, the trees grown from its seeds flung far and wide, and watered by the rain. It had a lot of advice to offer, as it bent and swayed with the wind, in its effort to reach out. The beech stood erect, and looked down with contempt on the shorter trees. It appeared to be the bully of the forest. Grandpa Oak stood rooted to the ground, waiting for someone to pass through, so that he could share his ancient wisdom. There appeared to be no takers, and he looked lonely and disappointed.
I wondered, if animals and trees had a mutual language of understanding. And why had humans failed in connecting with their counterparts?
I trust and love you
You are a part of life
As much as I am.
Inspired by Haibun Minday on dVerse – Poets Pub
Pic credit: kanzensakura