Two poems to celebrate beauty of trees, and the oldest living thing on the planet- a Douglas Fir.

It is strange
Standing here
Beneath the whispering trees
Far away from the haunts of men.
Tell me, trees!
What are you whispering?
When I am dead
I shall come and lie
Beneath your fallen leaves…
But tell me, trees!
What are you whispering?
They shall bury me
Beneath your fallen leaves.
My robe shall be
Green, fallen leaves.
My love shall be
Fresh, fallen leaves.
My lips shall be
Sweet, fallen leaves.
I and the leaves shall be together
Never parting…
I and the leaves shall always lie together
And know no parting.
It is so strange
Standing here
Beneath the whispering trees
Tell me, trees!
What are you whispering?

Wilson Harris. (Guyanese poet)

Listen…When the wind and the leaves whisper to each other.

listen and you will hear stories about things you’ve never dreamed of, places you’ve never seen and things unheard of.


Listen and calm your troubled soul.

Listen, there is music there – the music of the spheres, songs with no lyrics, music that soars above all the cares and the clamor of this place.

Just listen.