still

still

trees sway in no breeze

     no gust or sweet push

    where has wind gone

out of a body

    once so full

    it has found

    no home from

    whence to blow

yet these trees

    they sway

    leaves dance

    toward ground

branches tumble

    snapping in approval

    of the shift happening

    seemingly outwardly

    inward it shakes

making room and grace and peace and shade and home

    and hope

    and love

    and strength

to all who pass by

    this tree

    thee trees

    sway in no breeze

    for there is no wind

breath lies on the inside

    creating rhythms

    describing dreams

    moving what would

    be expected to be

still

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