Grandfather Grandmother

Grandfather tree.
You tower and sway.

Grandmother tree.
You hold storms at bay.

Sentinels, protectors, guardians for an age.

Clouds touch you as they pass by,
asking your blessing as they cross your lands.

The sky
bright blue; or dark gray
belongs to you,
you towering hulks,
you bastions of tranquility.

You hold the power of peace.
You grasp me in your heights.

When the wind blows your branches,
when sunlight dapples your green leaves,
I am carried to a place of nothingness
and become nothing but a piece of you.

When autumn strips you bare,
I mourn and pray
For your safe return
from your winter away.