I cry out for Mercy is the Song of the Tree. I flow and ebb with the wind and give home to the bird and the creatures of the land. I breathe in the air that is fouled and unclean and filter the poisens that lie there within.
I breathe out again and give life anew to all the air breathing creatures of the land, Sea and air.
In the Spring I give beauty for your eyes to behold. None other can better the blossoms I unfold. The Insects and birds they run to my arms and I feed and protect them and keep them from harm. My roots give hold to the earth underneath and keep it from spoiling the rivers that flow near.
Why then do you hunt me and cut me and tear. Why do you chop me and stack me and not care. I have lived lived on this earth since time did begin, always peacefull and helpful to all. Never did I seek war or was jealous of any that shared the great earth that we all do call home.
I shower the ground with precious food for all. I give you tender cherries and apples and grape. Yet you attack me and chop me and strip me and rape. We are the ones that give you precious life, what are you causing us pain and much strife. You chop us you strip us you cut off are tops. You dig us you move us you sell us like trophy to stick on a lawn to look regal and pretty.
I cry out again for the song of the tree so joyfull so pretty for all to see. How sad it will be when the earth becomes bare and your brother the trees will no longer be there. The sadness I feel when the chain saws start cutting sends shivers and shaking for my helpless soul brothers. They cannot defend or speak out. They cannot mass armies and fight off the foe. Creatures of love are our brothers the trees. Yes creatures I yell. They are alive and feel pain just like you and me!
I Sing the song of the tree and stand by his side. He cannot speak and tell you his pain. I cry out for him because he cannot. I cry out for him and ask that you stop. The creatures of the world also cry out. You are taking their homes and poisening their food. Stop I yell before it’s too late. Such an intelligent creature they say such of man. You need farms so you cut, you need homes so you hack. You don’t need me for that! You don’t have to attack!
So once more I ask you is the Song of the Tree, quit hacking and slashing and just let me be. If you need homes then build with the brick. If you need food a rooftop could do. A greenhouse a meadow an ocean farm could feed you. Why chop and why hack when the air that you breathe might not supply life to the children you concieve. Stop the cutting and hacking and ripping and pain and we can all live together in peace once again.
edited by Brent Walker