The Wild Tree Calls

The thunder rolls, the lighting shows. The flowers dance, the rain slows. The horizon shows her sunset. And the pine sings her wild song. Bunkering against the cold, the deer bed. And I play my pine flute with the wind. Alone here it's all in peace with calm pine. Here I will remain in my peace with the wild. How calm it is when the wild tree calls. And yet the storm clears, It allows the lgiht of the moon and the stars to shine upon my face as I listen. To hear the mountains night song, with pine and aspen in chorus. And so the wild trees call.