The wind blows the branches and it sounds like waves or rain.

Rain drips from the leaves protecting those taking shelter underneath.

Underneath, underground, they whisper to one another, telling tales of things we’ve done wrong.

Wrong is merely an adjective that doesn’t quite cover the destruction we’ve caused to them, to us, to the planet.

If only they could move, would they?

They seem to be more committed than that.

That is a question I’d like to ask.

Ask, they might say, but you might not like the answer.

Answer to nature, listen to the trees.

Trees are life.

Water is home

Water is in us, around us,

above us and below us.

We seek it out.

It is the ultimate healer, soothing our souls like nothing else.

Without it we will die,

too much, and we will drown.

It can transport, transcend, transform us from one

place to another, one state of consciousness to another.

We use it, abuse it, and then try to sustain it.

It moves. It changes. It gives and it takes away.

We are desperate to tame it, change it,

and yet expect it to remain the same.

We came from water and to water we will return.

Water is home