Yes lady yes.
I agree there are no poems more beautiful than trees.
But please lady please, let poems be thier leaves.
Let roots sprout and grow metaphores.
Let words wander like tiny rivulets of water in the snow.
Let words be wonderful.
Let words bring joy.
Let joy be written down.
Miss Dickinson you must forgive me,
When I say and I am sure the trees will agree.
They are not as beautiful as thee.
You need to understand.
Your pen was only a tool of your hand.
Your words touch us all.
The trees give you grace.
For we...mankind...are the words of God.