I walk to my court of words
Through the woods i hear whispering birds,
And when i settle at the feet,
of an ash his twisted branches discrete,
And through the wood its resonating voice called,
You seek wisdom i recall?
And with the tip of my head its voice again,
Child what is your trouble and how may i assist,
Then his words leaked like honey hissing,
and through the woods came an awful chill,