We touch the bark, blessed in ignorant knowledge

That what we feel is the extent of reality.

The learned man nods, trapped in his own hubris

As he opines from on top of the tree in the valley,

Declaring there is nothing beyond the forest;

All he can see are trees as far as the eye can see.


We scuttle across the ground, looking up in awe

As the wise man is joined by another.

They nod to each other, trapped in their hubris

As one, each man sharing his small secrets.

They climb higher up the tree, quick to point out

That of the forest there is no end to guess.


Satisfied at last, they climb down to our questions,

And patiently answer, without hesitation:

There is only the woods of the forest you see,

We've seen it all, we demand you believe.

Don't look at the edge, there's nothing for you,

Just tree upon tree, we've seen it, it's true.


Downcast,

We scuttle away,

Our tails tucked between our legs.

We think some more and go back to them

Who, being learned, are known as wise men.

It mustn't be true, we're sure you're mistaken,

It can't be just trees...


We plead for some sign, and without hesitation,

They growl and declare with words we're forsaken.

We're driven away to a home far from home

And left to die in the woods all alone.


We pick up children and wander away,

Cursed to walk through the forest and cry.

We wander for years, heading due North

And the forest, it slowly changed as we walked.

The trees, once so dense, revealed fields of grass,

And rivers, hills, mountains and sky.


Oh the sky, what wondrous vision is this?

So wide and filled with lights, what bliss!

We've only seen the branches of trees above.

We must tell the others, I'm sure they don't know.

We choose to return on the path we can't miss.

We turn back our steps, heedless to peril.


They greet us with spears and declare us begone.

We try to tell them, but they will not listen,

They scream forsaken and call us the devil.

We demand they look up to the sky up above,

But the wise men, trapped in their hubris,

Fling words like arrows, too many to count,

And we sadly retreat to hope the others get out.


The wise man watch us turn back our steps

And declare in a rush that those who repent

Can come back to the woods

Where's there's nothing but trees

And the lies that we've said?

Well, they were never meant.


Some others turn back and scuttle away,

We watch sadly as their backs turn south.

Unsure, I look up, and the branches cover me,

Green upon green, tree after tree.

But just there, flashing between leaves

Shines the sky and the stars and

I'd rather be free.