The Alder Trees - Alela Diane

The alder trees are listening to songs been sung before

My friend and I collecting skeletons of leaves

Marking tiny piles, and sifting through the weeds

Wind blows the tiny green, tiny green

Wind blows the tiny green, helicopter seeds

Wind blows the tiny green, tiny green

Wind blows the tiny green, helicopter seeds

Oh!

wandering in days unfolding

With paths fashioned of mud and snakeskin

Oh!

wandering in days unfolding

With paths fashioned of mud and snakeskin

of mud and snakeskin

I think about the ladies who weren’t allowed to sing

Sewing all their pretty rows of thread instead of seed

And what about the black braided sisters of Marie?

We sat upon upon their grinding rock as children used to be

Beneath the knotted pine, knotted pine

Beneath the knotted pine at the garden’s edge

Beneath the knotted pine, knotted pine

Beneath the knotted pine at the garden’s edge

Oh, laughing!

Little girls clapping

And ghosts weaving our hair to baskets

Oh, laughing!

Little girls clapping

And ghosts weaving our hair to baskets

our hair to baskets

I can hear the elders whispering in words so sweet and low

The alder trees are listening to songs been sung before

My friend and I collecting skeletons of leaves

Making tiny piles and sifting through the weeds

Making tiny piles and sifting through the weeds