This is the poem that inspired the field of trees. |
Out at the edge of my vision was the field of trees growing out of the withering plain shouting encouragement to the world. Out at the edge of my vision was the wandering oak branches billowing in the wind having conversations with the trees. Out at the edge of my vision was the whistling wind blowing through the plains on a magic carpet buzzing the wandering oak and settling into the trees. Out at the edge of my vision was the sparkling brook running with the grasslands and following the curves of the plains rushing past the wandering oak and whispering to the wind as in ran on in and pooled up in among the trees. Out at the edge of my vision was the whippoorwill saying its name to the world over and over again while it chattered away with the wandering oak and whispered its name to the wind along its low flight over the sparkling brook as it flew in among the grasses living within the trees. Out at the edge of my vision was the field of trees looking around itself at the wandering oak with a smile listening to the wind as it rustled its way through the leaves watching the reflections of the sun on the pool of the sparkling brook chattering away with the whippoorwill as it nested in the grasses thinking to itself, what a wonderful world! |