Those Who Speak Last...

When the trees spoke, they roared.
            Whispers of their slow demise had come hinted upon the wind for an age or more.  It is the nature of trees to listen; and so, they waited.
            But when their roots touched deep and found need to go ever deeper, and when their leaves stretched up and found their height stunted, a menacing quiet fell among them.  It was hope that made them wait.  And hope that made them roar. 
And when they roared, well… so quiet had they always been that the world took note and listened.

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