<p>I don’t mind if it is an acorn, a plum, or a baobab fruit. / They are all fruits.</p>
Roaming about a lonesome forest,
I see the human’s ideal life through trees:
photosynthesizing by day, respiring at night,
dancing with winds, singing with rains,
entertaining birds, romping with monkeys.
I don’t mind if it is an oak tree, a plum tree or a baobab.
They are all trees, yet they are very different.
I don’t mind if it is an acorn, a plum, or a baobab fruit.
They are all fruits.
The tree roots in darkness,
the top branches are always to the bright side,
touch the sky, awhile fly the cloud-kite.
Growing twigs, floating, an old dance,
an incantation murmuring, summoning.
I am walking deep into the forest, intruding into
A tree gifts a punch to my face.