The trees stood still,
With no one to see or to hear.
For no one was worthy of their love,
No one saw the world the way that it was to be seen.

Someday, far off a girl took her rightful place in a tree.
She loved the rustles, the whispers that followed her as she went her way.

Their voices grew louder with every coming day,
And she waited, and waited, and waited,
And they never stopped.

As the whispers of night overtook her very being,
She was able to make out the love they felt for her.
The love, no one had yet received.

It was till one day,
A handsome man took her hand,
He took her from her home of leaves, sticks, and bugs.
He took her to a village,
Where they lived out their days,
In solitude,
Away from the whispers of the trees.

She went to see them one day,
And they cried out in pleasure,
For she had come back!

She swayed on the spot,
Guilt gripping her spine.
Numb, away from the world.

The cries stopped,
The birds didn’t sing.
There was no flutter of bee wings,
Or rustles of leaves.

Utter silence,
It gripped the kingdom of life,
And took all prisoners as its own.

She did not understand,
Why had they stopped talking?
And she never heard them again.

It was not till her death bed,
She realized her errors,
The trees had stopped whispering,
Talking,
Crying,
Laughing.

For she had stopped,
Hearing.

And it was with the last breath,
She felt the breath of life,
Taken from her,
But with it she was given something.

Her head clearer than it had ever been,
She heard the whispers of the trees.
And, for the first time, she had heard what they said.

“Your heart beats with ours,
You breathe in time with us,
You will never be rid of us,
For we are you and you are us,
As you are about to become one,
My dear.”