Tree Nature Wood from Pixabay

They Call Me Tree


A well of life to them that seek.

The morning dew and food-light freshen my core.
My thousands shake in the breeze, little leaves, little leaves.
How I love you each and every one.
Breathing into the ocean of atmosphere on this orb sustaining all life,
an afterthought for a dog to piss on.
But, even so, my process is chemical wonder and the piss will be used as sustenance.
I am mighty.
My shade is a blessing.
Give all of my being for every one of those human bugs.
Gnawing away at the hand which fed them from their puny existence.
My countenance overlooked but by a few.
Meditation and patience are in every fiber, my every fiber.
Strong and tall, flexible and wise in each limb and branch.
I am home to every creature.

Behold beauty in all my forms and ways.



Greg Prince

Bringing real feelings along with messages of inspiration and imagination to life. Awakening is the symptom of my infectious condition. Poetry is my condition.