Treetops Poem by Naveed Akram

I believe in treetops that spin around,
Dizzy heights revel, dizziness dispels,
As the sun becomes a dwarf
And the world turns cold with sinful ice.
My hard heart responds to will and way
Of the higher sort, the glamour of old
Is present.
I sell the sausage of sentences to the sane,
Their minds freeze with delight to reply
And question me as to their prior visit.

The trees are of the conifers, for they confer
And endanger the soul of sight,
The poor souls are never in blight
Until the next time we exist.
But we are in a mind of diffidence,
How we matter to the statues that rest
And that are found locally,
Along the way and path of the beloved trees.

The forest of this day and night
Fell the day we died, forming
Leaves decaying and dying towards
Their road to wilting death,
A safe and sacred end so well timed
By the soul of the forest.