Whisper My Name
by Michelle L. Piniella
In spring
The trees whisper my name.
They whisper my name
They call me out to see their magnificence begin
And pull me from my hibernation
To watch their beauty come alive
Their whispers show me where to look
And I see it all.
My body feels like bursting and
I whisper back praises and promises
My adoration for them is surely felt,
And they remember
The heat of the hot sun on a summers day
Pours in my windows and I wake to song.
No longer whispers, the trees sing of
Their beauty, their leaves dancing in the hot
Breeze and reflecting the sun upon each other
They sing out to me and I stand gazing at
Their beauty
My adoration is surely felt,
And they remember
Red, orange yellow leaves litter
The ground and the trees scream for their
Lost ones. Their mourning goes on but
All is lost to them. They scream my name
And I feel their sadness – it will be
Mine – and yet I stand gazing at their beauty
Sunlight in a leaf and gold reflected in the
Autumn light
My adoration is surely felt,
And they remember
Freezing wind blows through the trees,
Pushing the leafless frozen limbs to
Limits they have only just forgotten. The trees
No longer whisper nor sing. They are
Silent, as all nature is silent, and I stand
There waiting, listening hard for their
Whisper. As the trees do, so I too continue
Hibernation, but first, I stand their gazing.
My adoration is surely felt
And I know they will remember
And again they will whisper my name
