Do you see the monsters
That line the highways,
pretending to be trees?
Standing in silent watch
over the wanderers and travelers who pass by?
Most are unaware of their true nature,
Which, of course, is to come alive
in the midnight hour
And terrorize little ones in their sleep...
No, their dreamlike state of unconscious reality...
Look at the arms we call branches,
Up in the air, seemingly praising God
in a gesture of false piety
To put you at ease,
to put you in a state of disbelief
When, as Dunbar says,
They wear the masks that grin and lie,
Mocking their true nature.
In the fall,
It is easier to see who they really are:
Devils in disguise,
Especially when they shed their masks of leaves,
But in the spring and summer,
When the promises of new life and hope are strongest,
With leaves that whisper...
“Everything is going to be okay...”
That is when the monsters are most dangerous,
When they are at their most beautifully deceptive.
So go to sleep little one,
And pay no attention to the garish beauty of the tree
Tapping outside your window, little one.
It’s just the wind whispering,
“Off to dreamland little one...