So much of the wealth of the world we owe to trees.
From crib to casket, they cradle us,
We build our homes from their bones.
Trees fabricate the very air we breathe.
They soothe our weary souls,
and nourish us with fruit and seed
conjured from water, light, and stone.
They build the soil.
They temper the winds and rain.
They buffer our excess.
If trees accomplish all these things, and still sleep the winter through,
What makes us think the world will stop if we leave our desks for a day or two?