I’m in love with the windy whispers through tall pines. Hushed tones of earthly exhale. Softly swaying fuzzy giants, grounded in majesty, looking upward to the sky. They creak, they groan, they cry the tune of the ancients, telling of older times, softer rhymes found in a storybook.
Just dots, we are, in their presence, the lines of heaven and tell are blurred. Lend me your words old wise one. Notes of highest angelic shrill gifting us trunkful tales. Maybe a land of plenty, land of riches, of smells and sticky feels. The voice of the ages, medicine to my soul.
My darling pines so strong and stoic, feathered and furrowed are your clothes; a green forever wardrobe of survival. Sheltering weary men, infant beasts and the aged all on the dreamy skyline of the countryside. Medicinal oils and resins, cones and needles- the Elders understood your worth. I understand your worth. I’m in love with the windy whispers through tall pines.
As the earth breathes, featherless babies, held by your plentiful arms and soft fingers, sway in your comfort. Safe, sound and serene, they sleep. Pines rooted and resilient, thriving in rocky and sandy soil. Your roots expand laterally, reaching out to connect with others. Holding hands and handing holds, all is well with earth.
Your wide base of support offered to humanity. I imagine the core of the earth meeting you with its richness and once again you and I are loved, revered for our magnificence, our presence. The greatest love affair ever imagined between heaven and birth. I dream the dream, in love with tall whispering pines.
A Fish Named Karen 