Words with a Dead Tree

As I wander amongst the many shades of green, I feel the need to speak with a dead tree.
Will she revive and make friends with me?
Will her rotten ligaments begin to unspoil ?
Will her branches grow and uncoil?
I sit with the now living tree listening to the birds performing
Her breath was so quiet as if she were snoring.
She was not like other trees, her wind was not roaring.
How did you perish? I asked the tree.
My own roots had strangled me explained she
That’s what i sense inside me taken place
Heartache was written on both of our faces
The tree was understanding of my mind’s culmination
This did bring yet a peaceful sensation
I think my own roots have started to release
Maybe I'll meet some more dead trees.