Near the tree, I see a root.
All around the trees, tree roots flow.
Beyond the horizon trees are swaying.
Vulnerable to every wind that blows.
These trees hold onto the breath taking solid land.
They are tall and strong.
But even so,
Sometimes the strongest fall.
Rings of life seem to flutter down.
I see one tree fall,
And suddenly I imagine every tree falling.
Different sizes, colors, textures, heights, widths, and even eyes fall.
They crumble whole heartedly,
Some the wind blew away,
But the rest had a rotting heart.
The beauty that flowed through every branch,
Now lies on the dirt ground.
Leaves have poured out every last tear, every last whimsical rain drop has
slipped away.
And the trees are dyeing because we are not trying.
Let us try, let us live without sadness, let us prosper, grow a hundred feet
tall, and fly.
Let us be free.