when I was small
the oaks spoke
in
ancestral tongues
of the
Forest Mother
spinning twig
and branch
trunk
and root
leaf
and seed
from
the names
of stars
lightning cracked
spirit tongued
blue flamed
thunder rooted
words of power
sap and blood
we shared
rhizomal dreams
and songs
of wind
and rain
of Sun
and Moon
and deep Earth
we knew
let not
these memories
fall
with the
last tree
but live on
in each
of us
children
of
the Forest
…………………………………….
image : ‘Forest Spirit’, Rob Purday
owlmirror 
Like your poem; very good! Do share more! Am SO appreciative!
I will, many thanks….Renate
I feel inspired! I need to get myself a blog! Go well, my friend
Do it!