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Whispering Trees Poem


The Trees Are Whispering To Me.
              by David Michael Jackson

The trees are whispering to me.
They tell me the rain will come,
that spring will bring new leaves,
that birds will nest
in my branches.
They tell me not to concern myself
with the fire
nor the blight.
They tell me to stand strongly
and to lift my arms
to the light.
  Excerpt from Sipping
Copyright © 2000 by David Michael Jackson, All rights reserved


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