The Silent Tree

If a tree falls in a forest and nobody is around, does it make a sound?

One serene, starlit night, I went out for a walk in the forest. I saw a tree with large, healthy clumps of beautiful, flourishing emerald-green leaves. The tree swayed back and forth in the cool breeze, as if rocking itself to sleep. What an astonishing tree. Suddenly, the intricate piece of art began to collapse. When it hit the ground, it uttered nothing but a whisper. But how could such a beautiful, healthy tree just fall? I walked over to take a closer look at the masterpiece.
The hazelnut brown bark on the tree shone and sparkled under the soft glow of the moon; its thick, amber sap glistened like maple syrup. I peeled back the bark to see more. But under that bark was nothing but a hollow, dark cave, begging to be explored, yet never making itself known. And within that cave the sound of that fall amplified and reverberated off of the empty, dry walls. At first I heard nothing but a whisper, but then all I could hear was a powerful, desperate roar.

If a tree falls in a forest and nobody is around, does it make a sound? Even if people are around, will it make a sound? Does that tree not want to be heard? Or is that tree silently screaming, begging for someone to reach out a hand?

This poem is about: 
My community


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