I feel trees come out of the base of each spinal column, When I creek in the morning a thousand nesting birds sing for my arrival, my vascular cambium fillls its lungs with life and breathes it out too, my only hope is that fire comes and clears the understory for my seeds.
its kinda weird. idk how I feel about this yet. at first it seems like I wanna make a poem about the missing piece of ecology in my region. but the more I think about it, it feels like I have been more privileged than I originally thought.