The Whisper Tree

Upon her moonlight crafted gown,

Liquid starlight trickles down,

Splashing across her dew-filled leaves,

Among the words the young girl weaves.

Her secrets from her tongue they slipped

Directly from her heart they dripped.

Words the quiet one took gently

 Treasured within her roots intently.

Hopes and dreams she held there fast

Deaths and tears of living past

Endless suns and moons they shared

From their roots with nothing spared.

At darkest nights, the secrets shone

Memories told of blood and bone;

Each word was cherished by the tree

As she listened silently.

She held the secrets never said

Until her majestic posture fled,

And when the girl returned no more,

The whispered secrets she still bore.

Hidden stories dead and gone

With the newborn rising dawn

And where the faithful tree once stood

Lies a pile of forgotten wood.

--Megan

12-9-12