written by Geoffrey Johnson, May 2008

Trees were not always
As they are thus
Swaying languidly in tranquil daze
Long ago they were ferocious
And roamed wild through the lands
Feet of root and strong leafy hands

Army of wood: Oak, Maple, Teak
Cedar, Beech, Birch and Pine
Then one day under a Mountain Peak
The trees grew weary and lay supine

Yet mountain it was ancient
Powerful and not complacent
And while all the trees slept
The Great Mountain sang a song
Quietly the words crept

To the Earth and the words bound them
So they could move no more

And Lo! When the trees had awoken
They saw themselves snared
The Great Mountain it had spoken
And their incarceration would not be spared

But the Great Peak was not cruel
And sent forth through the forest
Placating wind soft and cool

Soon the trees lost interest
In moving, jumping, fighting

The dirt felt soft, clean, and good
To their knobby feet
This was their home, where now they stood
Wanderlust replete

The trees grew old
Under sunlight of gold
With their towering mountain friend
And this is the way
That it will always be
Until the very end.