Geometry and syntax of elation

 Trees, those sensors of the wilds who feel my utter joy and innate wonder,
They’ve learned the awe struck vibes emitted by my worship, a most enchanting calculus, sign language at  the speed of light, a blinding light that shreds Olympic records.
Leaves, at azimuth angles absorb the spectra in my oohs and aahs,  grasp the grammer of elation,
the silken strands embedded in a vocal syntax, that taut Euclidean space beknown  to but a few,
 Twigs, they twig the smiles inside my hazel eyes as they pop up and out  like kites ascending through the atmosphere,
Trunk and root, root and branch,
layer by layer the expressions on this visual face arches upwards, geometrically, tangentially, in ceramic detail.
How I ache for a motherless, fatherless world immersed in its own void,
haunting sketches on a human mind consumed by the choir of mother nature’s gamut,
orchestrated by the
elements feeding it, knowing that they’re  more than just the sum of their parts.