Trees , the kind that seem to free , are welcoming and wispy .
Some seem to have limbs dancing lightly against the sky .
Take pause to listen and they may speak so that you can hear .
Their wildness in the winds harnesses ancient memories .
Exposing the might , exposing the fright .
They live so that others may live .
They give so that you will receive .
Trees , the kind that always to used to be free , thank you .
Home in My Soul
I belong to the birds and the trees ,
And to the flowers and the sky .
And to the birds and the dreams ,
And to the rivers and the streams .
I belong to the mountains and the hills
And to the stars in the sky .
I had to learn how to see her again . Big, brown eyes mellow and soft when displaying her sensitive nature and fiercely courageous when taking a stand. These are details of who she was and were tucked safely away within the vitality of love . Protected from the chaos and disrepair of grief the moments that had passed between us remained alive .
blchapman 