The Trees Were Listening on 1/20/09

The Trees Were Listening on January 20, 2009


The Trees in midwinter slumber, when footsteps broke their sleep.
It was the morning night, and the trunks stood tall, dark and deep.

Was it the indigenous, who hunted these once game-filled lands?
Or was a slavetrader, to auction the strong of back and hands?

Was it protester or protector, was it terrorist or adoring fan?
The Trees were listening to the voices, hoping to know the plan.

The voices were young and old, spoken with smiles and tears,
The Trees were listening now with thanks, gone were once-known fears.

As the Queen of Soul redeemed each slave, ever sold below their boughs,
And a humble minister honored differences, did their hopes arouse.

Then two young leaders complemented to complete the earthly vows,
And the leader spoke to a world waiting, with sweat upon their brows..

Finally, a worthy warrior, of battles gone before,
Rose to give the benediction, with grace and lore.

The voices listened and answered, with a resounding, "Amen."
The whirling wind agreed, and whistled "Amen" again.

And as the Trees were listening, they too lifted their limbs high to say,
"Amen" to a new beginning, our dreams found their leaves today.