Hidden by Leaves

I am a nameless figure. I stand in your kindest dreams, never moving, except by the power of the wind. I watch you pass me every day, never saying a word, only gazing at you in hopes that someday you will turn. That you will turn, and recognise me for who I am, not who I appear to be. I, hidden among the leaves, am a man. And as that man, I tell you now, hear me. I speak. So often I speak. So rarely you listen. I, hidden by my bark and my branches, ask you to see me. See my smile. See my leaves wave in greeting. See the way my branches twist toward you as you pass by. Not only the wind moves me. I am a man, and my mind controls who I am. I choose to be a man. The wind may not be subject to my will, but I am a man. The good God may wish for me to take this form, but I am a man. He knows who I am. I am a man. But you pass by, never knowing just who it is you pass in every spirited dream. I am a man.