Listen

I knew a boy who wasted time
On foolishness and useless rhyme
I heard him say he thought that trees could talk
Well if they did what would it mean
To hear beyond the day’s routine
I’m not sure we’d take the time to stop

… to listen

But in these branches live our dreams
Wild ideas and crazy schemes
The wisdom of a million fruitful years
Love unfolds in gentle leaves
Revealing truth that lies beneath
Protecting all the souls that we hold dear

If only we could see our way clear
to listen…

It seems that listening’s lost its style
We haven’t stopped in quite awhile
To smell the sweetness in a rose
If we can’t see and we won’t hear
Long enough to face our fears
We can’t learn what trees would have us know

Now the boy is grown and wise
He’s learned to live with compromise
Looking back on life and taking stock
He thinks of what his life’s been missing
Knows if he just tries to listen
Late at night the trees will start to talk
The wind will blow and trees will softly talk

Will we listen?
listen…