the trees have eyes

Ancient, green giants

tower lovingly across the land

stretching out as far as her eyes can see

from the hilltop above.


A canopy of leaves,

a blanket of earth below,

“All hail to the trees!”

she cries, longingly.


She kneels down,

resting body, spirit, and mind

clearing her thoughts and

pushing aside her worries and wonders

for all she can think of

are the trees.


Silence engulfs her;

she is overtaken

by desire for their wisdom.


Then, a voice protrudes,

from the ether

a knotted branch extends

offering a blessing of sight and of power!


She accepts willingly,

grateful for their gift,

but beware, oh seeker,

“You have forgotten these things for a reason.”


Suddenly, wind whips around her

hurricane force gusts take her up,

carrying her towards the heavens

so she may see the evil below.


Beneath her,

the forest glows orange;

silver wisps of beings

flutter through the now-dancing trees.


They celebrate, in fact,

for they have tricked another

foolhardy mistress.


“Another sacrifice!” they rejoice,

“We will feast again tonight!”

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