Song Of Olive Trees Poem by Mohammad Yousef

By Mohammad A. Yousef

In the heart of sunlit hills,
where time dances slowly,
the olive trees whisper,
their silver leaves glinting,
like secrets shared among ancient friends.

Roots stretch deep,
cradling stories of the earth,
each gnarled trunk a testament
to resilience, to storms weathered,
to the embrace of sun and rain,
where every drop is a song,
every gust a gentle sway,
a melody woven into the fabric of the land.

They stand, guardians of the past,
their branches heavy with promise,
each olive a tiny universe,
a burst of history,
a taste of the sun-kissed soil,
an echo of laughter,
of hands skilled in the art of harvest.

In the dusk, when shadows lengthen,
the trees exhale,
a sigh that carries the weight of ages,
the warmth of shared meals,
the clinking of glasses,
the birth of traditions,
a legacy draped in green and gold.

Listen closely,
and you will hear the voices of ancestors,
woven in the rustle of leaves,
the hum of bees,
the flutter of wings,
the soft tread of a child playing,
a tapestry of life unfolding
beneath the ancient canopy.

The olive trees know the language of the wind,
they speak in hushed tones,
in the rustling of their branches,
whispering tales of peace,
of wisdom born from patience,
of the slow, deliberate rhythm of growth.

There is a stillness in their presence,
a reminder that all things take time,
that every fruit must first blossom,
that every story must find its voice,
rooted deeply before it reaches for the sky.

So let us gather beneath their shade,
let us share our dreams,
our fears, our laughter,
for in this sacred grove,
we become part of the song,
a chorus of souls,
resonating with the pulse of the earth,
as we celebrate the beauty,
the legacy of the olive trees,
the silent sentinels of our history,
the keepers of our stories,
the song of olive trees—
an ode to life,
a hymn of hope.