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How do we know that trees
are not aware of the wind shimmering them,
shaking and shivering their delicate twigs —
their laughing leaves?
How do we know
that they are not ecstatic and happy
when the lightest breeze caresses them,
or a bird sings in their limbs?
Isn’t it wholly possible
that the wind-roused trembling
of tree leaves and twigs,
the spontaneous shaking of branches
is an ecstatic thing
in the same way that the human body,
when fully alive and delicately caressed,
trembles in ecstasy?
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Poem © Blake Steele 2009
Image © Blake Steele 2010