The Sound of Trees by Robert Frost

The tree encapsulates my fingers
with its branches entwined
its sap seeping into my blood-stream
ascending and descending my arms
and into my breasts
into my chest’s
cavernous cavity
and radiating outward like branches
these arms of mine.
I am the tree.

And so are you.
You child of the moss and leaves
with violet roses and wind-spoken
sneezes
you child of the highland
forest growths
you folly in this world of wile
and turmoil
you child of trees and treasonous
self
you grow upwards to the heavens
to the sun
and the moonlight
streaming upon your face.

And I too allow my roots
to sink in deep so that
I may stand tall
and be watered by the living
streams of communality
and salt-breem.

Tree of life
bear your fruit
for us all to partake in.