I sit quietly, mesmerized
by the path of a morning breeze
travelling from the peak
of a tall oak, downward
until each branch, each leaf
engaged in childlike song.

The entire tree danced, as if
calling me to join in
until the breeze moved on
to the loblolly across the fence.

I watch as the breeze
continues conducting.
Whole sections of the loblolly
swaying and swirling in grand gestures
like a gentle giant preparing
to pick a tiny flower.

The same breeze spoke
through both trees.
Responses varied due to
their individual states of being.
Results proved equally persuasive.

Songs my soul needed to hear.
Lessons my heart aches to understand.