We change, turn over covers and apple strudels.
We wake, fresh out the oven.
We grow meeting seasons with new energy.
Be a tree.
We do not know why we are here.
Neither do trees.
Purpose lives, breathes, shakes our cores, spirits, and psyches.
I was blessed with a body, arms that wrap around my community, hands that are warm
and I whistle wind songs, chiming tunes, writing rhythms extending towards you.
I am resilient. I am unique. I am unconventional. I am authentic.
Trees cannot be replicated as replacement carries new weight, manufacturing wisdom
in my palms, reaching up, grounding myself in moss and stone and cement.
No matter where I go, I leave a mark.
One human thumbprint
is worth more
Than a thousand.