woods – novamartinpoetry.com

My forests and my wizards
lead me in my days.
The living network
and the Dead.
My days are bound before
the sunshine’s chords,
the spirit clouds,
the respirations of oaks.
The calls, the draws,
herald my fate,
their listenings and their vibrations,
become my tongue,
my way, my steps forward.
My heart is like the forest’s roots
and my breath is the endless vapor
of the unliving,
their expanse across all time,
it shapes and fills my
now-woman body,
and rings my now-woman soul.
These curves
do the work
they were meant to do
… thanks to their conception
from the woods,
the lichens,
and the moss
as my ghost loves
hummed on.

The trees can do
most anything you ask of them.
Go out into the woods,
find a grove, or find a lone tree.
Talk to them.
Speak your words out loud.

The trees communicate with each other.
There are approximately 3 trillion of them
on the planet.
They listen to everything.

You can request anything of trees,
but there is one limitation;

you cannot request anything evil.

And it’s not that you can request
something evil
but they will refuse to do it.
You can literally not even make the request.
Just by requesting something evil
you void their trust.
They will not act. They will not utter.

So ask yourself;
is this evil I plan on asking this tree?

If it is, it will be obvious to you.

This is but one way trees have
educated humans.
They have many contracts and spells
amongst the systems.