Winter Trees

Winter Trees by Valerie Parente

Winter trees look quite distressed,
naked before the rest
but did you ever notice
that winter trees perfectly reflect
the roots that grow in the depths
of the grime, the grit, the stress,
in the dark it all manifests.

Like dendrites as they work,
planted once, then bringing forth
the nutrients through the dirt,
all you need to grow well versed,
a mirror for what it’s worth
of what goes on unearthed,
bound to one place but still traversed.

Winter trees denote
the truth of the untold,
that the ways we grow
don’t always show
until we withstand the cold,
so let it be known
as above, so below.

– Valerie Parente (2-23-2025)

she is the tree whisperer (A Fantasy Chronicle)

she is the tree whisperer by Valerie Parente

Little baby girl
found at the bottom of a tree
nestled in the moss
along the tree’s anatomy
but she was not alone
in her perfectly sound sleep;
for the lullabies of the tree spirits
kept her warmth and company.

Found by three druids
but raised by two
they named her Sylvianna
under the wake of the moon,
offered her a home in the village
but she kindly refused
because there with the tree spirits
she felt connected to her roots.

Sylvianna grew to know the forest
like the back of her hand
from the tip of her toes
to her antennas of branch
receiving the whispers
from the lay of the land
learning about lifetimes
far beyond man.

With nails like claws
Sylvianna climbed to her kingdom
a network of treehouses
where she learned from the brilliant.
For there is a reason that trees
are known for their wisdom
because they’ve heard it all
throughout the ecosystem.

She is the tree whisperer
and she is one with the Nightingale forest
protecting the very territory
that granted her solace.
She had the option to leave
nature’s cruelty and harshness
but she whispered to herself,
“I’d much rather be haunted.”

Wisteria

Wisteria by Valerie Parente

The wisteria drapes
like lavender rain
and I am amazed
by the floral display.

Took several years to grow
the perennials above the road
so pure when it overflows
yet toxic in a small dose.

They say to beware
of this invasive plant
overtaking the land
but I am not scared.

I have become one with the infection
that plagued my intentions
so pretty, so prevalent
as I embrace the evidence.

Long live the twining
of nature’s signage
like calligraphy winding
in a language so binding.

The wisteria dominates
any glimpse of sun rays
but I could never hate
sitting under the shade.

– Valerie Parente (5-25-2021)