Lullaby

In the soft whiteness, in the crisp cold, they stood patiently and listened. There was a stillness that surrounded the great tree as it drew root breath, and they leaned towards it (although many were no longer spry and supple). The Great Bristlecone Pine had been here in the beginning, to sing a lullaby to the just born world, to bring green to the banners flying high at creation and hold air and water and fire fast to its significant earth. On this night (and only this), it roused itself to sing again, remembering the true names of the dawn and the twilight, the first to speak hope aloud in the Age of Forming. They bowed low and marveled, all of the ents that were left, and let the sap tears flow, to hear the secret name of the world said aloud, hummed softly with great care and love, as if it were new.