The Boy Who Talked To Trees

There once was a boy
who would talk to the trees,
fluttering butterflies
and busy bumblebees;
who would exchange kind words
with the beasts and the birds
and even say ‘Hi’
to the sun in the sky.

But all those who saw him
thought him quite insane.
They’d all laugh and taunt him
and call him rude names.
“That boy”, they would say,
“Must have rocks in his brain,
to talk to the birds
and the trees and the rain”.

But, then, one morning,
the birds and the trees
gave the boy a warning.
They said to him, “Please!
A big storm is coming.
A twister! A typhoon!
It’ll blow down this town,
so you’d better leave soon”.

“My goodness”, he said,
“I hope it’s not too late.
I should warn all the townsfolk
they must evacuate”
and, running round the town,
people heard the boy say,
“You should leave this town quickly.
A big storm’s on its way”.

And he told the police,
running into the station,
about the big storm brewing
that would bring devastation
and the priest in the church
and teachers in the school
but whoever he told
laughed and called him a fool.

“Not one will believe me”,
the boy said as he sighed
but the birds and the trees
said, “Well, at least you tried”.
Then he packed up a suitcase
and he got on a train
and the townsfolk just said,
“Good riddance. What a pain!”.

But then, just as he’d warned them,
the very next day,
a tornado appeared
that swept that town away,
picked up the police station
and the church and the school
and the houses of people
who had called him a fool.

And, after that day,
all the townsfolk agreed
that it wasn’t so odd
just to talk to a tree
or a bird or the wind
or the moon as it glistens
and they tried it themselves;
they talked and they listened
and, oh, when they listened
with their hearts and their ears,
the song of all Nature,
was the thing they could hear.