If a tree fell in the woods and spoke to me – I wonder if the words will mimic the ones printed in the books it turns into,
or if the wisdom will be reminiscent of its number of rings,
I lost count at 23 –
The age you were when you wanted to tie the other end of the rope around the braches,
you saw them reaching out to the sky,
a serendipitous commonplace in your eyes,
well I’m thankful that the tree came down with the storm and that you found your footing among the leaves.
                              
                                               Believe me when I say --
That I never meant to tell you to speak out of my own need to make my life better than it should be,
I just wanted to make it okay--
To let you tell the truth instead of telling only what you thought you wanted me to hear you say.
                                                  You were afraid --
That the thoughts in your head and the rings in your trees made you unfit for this world,
and that the city’s ambience would always drown out the gusts of wind at the shores of Walden.
That no distance to run would take you far enough away to find ears to hear of your suffering,
I promise that I’ve never been more pleased to say you’re wrong.