Talking To Trees Poem by Mary Champion

Some people,
even kings and princes,
talk to trees -
and I have always mocked them.
What do trees know?

But trees can live for many centuries -
I shall be lucky if I survive one.

Perhaps we should respect their wisdom -
these venerable trees.
What have they seen?
What have they felt?

Here is my witness -
a gnarled and ancient tree.
Long before the Industrial Revolution,
it took root on this spot.

When it was born
there were no mills or factories,
no internal combustion engines,
no jet aircraft,
no space rockets,
a lot less people.

If I could learn to speak Tree
it could tell me about climate change first hand.
It could tell me how its life began-
Alone in the midst of the common-land?
One of many in an ancient wood?

Did it witness bloody battles?
How many lovers met beneath its shade?
How many small boys attempted to scale its height?
How many endangered birds nested in its branches?
How many extinct insects sheltered within its bark?

I might ask how it felt when they built the first factory,
ran the first train.
Was it scared when the first jet flew overhead?

I could learn a lot if I spoke to trees
and they deigned to answer.