The Speech of Trees - Cynthia GALLAHER

If there is a musical world,

a hidden side to the one we know,

it is filled with the speech of trees.

Between our insistence on high-speed motion

and broad destinations reached by gas,

trees prefer staying put.

Part memory, part nested bird, part grave,

roots push and drink deeply of rainwater,

branches view the same land

day after day,

sap droplets create lenses,

each sway, a different snapshot.

Between our insistence on finding

our place in the sun, trees shade us

before we collapse from arrogance.

Between our perfection slipcased

between tempered steel and glass,

trees encase themselves in natural error

and chance,

with bumpy and thick bark,

no two leaves alike.

Left to its own device,

imperfection reaches an exquisite height,

lives an immortal eternity, compared to us.

And trees’ elevators – birds

as passengers – color and sound

in autumn bright foliage and percussive branches,

and if we don’t have the sense

to raise our arms and pick fruit,

food is thrown right at our feet.

Previously published in the author’s Unforgettable Edible Holidays: Recipes, Poetry and Observations and in Sycamore Roots, Ice Cube Press & Sycamore Roots Regionalist Guide, North Liberty, Iowa 1997

Cynthia Gallaher, a Chicago-based poet, is author of four poetry collections, including Epicurean Ecstasy: More Poems About Food, Drink, Herbs and Spices, and three chapbooks, including Drenched. Her award-winning nonfiction/memoir/creativity guide is Frugal Poets’ Guide to Life: How to Live a Poetic Life, Even If You Aren’t a Poet. One of her poems will be sent on NASA's flight to the south pole of the moon later this decade.