'carved by / etched into'

i love trees to me they look like tortured souls reaching up for the heavens crying out i take their picture so i may empathise with their stories stroke their scars life/the tree intertwined in every one I see the whole picture a journey begun they require no words expressive complete in one glimpse displaying their own art sculpted in repose intellectually unattainable bartering their stories with incomprehensible fools (mere mortals) for misbegotten souls the receptical for all the worlds anguish no wonder i dream them twisted scarred and hollow (my story already meagerly sold) Written January 27th, 2002 © on Jan 27 2002 12:37 PM PST    0 • 9