The trees are my solemn watchmen

Poplar. Pine. Cedar. Fir. Maple. Oak

Ever vigilant never sleeping

They watch what is and has been

Soft creaking and groaning

Leaves whispering in the wind

These are the words they speak

I believe it's a language so ancient we have forgotten

The crackling of a madrones bark

The random plop plop of a pine cone

These are the foreign tongues of the forest

No one is as loyal as a tree could be

So stoic in their resolve to stand against fire and storm

Can you imagine what a tree sees

The symbiotic relationship between all creatures below them

Then there is man who loves and destroys without giving anything

They watch us cut and burn the forests that raised and sheltered them

They watch as we kill all animals some for food more for sport

They grow deaf from the noise pollutions of our highways

And become jaded at the site of us killing each other for nothing other than fear

But still the tree stands

Unbiased, unpoised, still beautiful.