Poetry
The True Immortals are made of Wood
by
Edward Hanson
Spanning lofty ridges
fills valleys and steep canyons
a forest fellowship
a congress of immortals
made of wood
connects earth and sky
Soaring crowns nurtured
by the gift of wind
clouds with a kiss of rain
soft gray underbellies
raked by lofty fingers swaying in the wind
A congress of immortals
made of wood
clustered in quietude
deliberating
Enduring wisdom spoken here
silence born of ancient earth
cease your rambling conversations
talking to your own mind
make room for another message
hear your heart speak peace
as wind ruffles leaf and needle
A congress of immortals
made of wood
holding convocation
Avian ensembles
exalt in eloquent rhapsody
enunciating the dominion
of a gathering of trees
Gloria in excel sis nemus
With reverence wander freely
among the gnarled knobby knees
and stones between their toes
this is holy ground
A congress of gods immortals
made of wood
holding court
and they know you have come