Trees talk in ways we cannot follow
deep down beneath the surface,
the tilt of silt and loam.

Beneath our careless feet,
trees talk.
Roots reach out,
one to another
bearing gifts of sugar
for sun starved saplings;
water for the thirsty young;
extra carbon for their kin trees.

What is sentience?
Is the only conciousness that counts
Human?
If so, how human are we?