Silent guardians

“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity… and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.” 

― William Blake

“We have nothing to fear and a great deal to learn from trees, that vigorours and pacific tribe which without stint produces strengthening essences for us, soothing balms, and in whose gracious company we spend so many cool, silent, and intimate hours.” 

― Marcel Proust

How they stand there, the guardians of silence, watching over my healing heart.

Imagining what my tears could tell them, how they listen without saying a word.

They give silent comfort when I lean my face against the bark, feeling the hope getting to my heart.

They keep the tears flowing, transforming them into strength and new beginnings.

No matter the storms, these guardians are standing tall and heal what has been broken.

The tears will grow into leaves, and the trees are the silent guardians of my healing heart.