Mother Tree

Mother Tree:

Sorry, I have no writing to offer you today.

All those refined sentences, stories from the past, feelings of guilt and remorse — I have none with me.

I came here because I wanted to rest. Breathe, under your generous green arms.

How nice it is — do you know? — to have you by my side.

I want to close my eyes and softly whisper: “Thank you.”

For being here — without questions, without answers.

With all that comes and goes.

With life, just as it is.

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