While attending this year’s Nature Immersion Experience at Genesis, I found space to listen more deeply to the quiet wisdom of trees and the invitation to live in kinship with all creation. In that stillness, I was drawn to reflect on the harm we have caused and our call to relationship, reciprocity, and justice with the living world.
The Speed of Trees
I want to scream out, “Run forest, run”
From the devastation that is yet to come
But they are already running at the speed of trees
If only we could slow down, to the speed of these.
We are so busy, always coming and going
That we fail to see the harm we are sowing
Consuming, extracting, forgetting our place
Turning from kin with a hurried, hard face
Our sisters and brothers, God’s solar machines
Breath and life for us all, creating beautiful scenes
They give without asking, they stand without claim
Holding the memory of Earth’s sacred name
Reciprocity calls in the rustle of leaves
In the hum of the soil, in the sigh of the trees
To give as we’re given, to tend and repair
To live in right relationship, mindful and fair
A gift and a treasure, full of wonder and grace
Yet cries for justice rise up from each place
From waters once pure to the wild and the poor
All suffer the wounds we can choose to ignore
God, change our hearts and open our eyes
To the harm we are inflicting, as we live in our lies
Teach us to listen, to grieve, to restore
To walk more gently than ever before
All of creation is bound up, together as one
Sisters and brothers beneath the same sun
That kinship may guide us, and justice take root
Till love grows again from branch, vine, and shoot
May we learn again what the tall trees have known
To live not as masters, yet never alone
And in learning to move at creation’s own pace
Find healing together, every life, every place
