THE WALK

Come with me for a country walk.
We're near Orion, Alberta,
The place where I was born.
Etched against a shimmering sky,
They offered peace and calm,
Inviting moments of retreat,
For rest and healing balm,
My dog rushed on to feel its cool,
Relief for shade and drink,
A wagging welcome waited me,
Together, life's sweet link.
Who planted here, this stately grove,
Some generation gone,
No residence or entrance road,
Led to this paragon.
A spring, its aquedct for life,
Must be its secret source,
A silent underground supply,
With gravity its force.
Although the silence had no words,
No hint from rustling leaves,
What caused a signal in my ear,
Thoughts I could perceive?
Then words in silence came to mind,
"Your paper we supply,
We cannot verbalize the words,
Without help, we may die.
We speak for other trees on Earth,
Rainforests in dire need,
Few people tune to tree e-mails,
So for your help we plead.
Earth's sustenance we gladly give,
Your oxygen and fuel,
Home with comforts, we provide,
Buildings, logs and tools.
With pen and voice our words proclaim,
Together - living art,
You are our hands, you are our feet,
Your food and breath, a part.
Thank you for these living words,
Your thoughts, your acts, your deeds,
Preserving for our Mother Earth,
Both man and plants in need."
Suzie-Q