I’d rather befriend trees
With its calmness that breathes
Simultaneously with my skin and flesh
through the aorta that travels to all my nerves
from head to toe
and hit me.
It’s my dream to befriend trees
To lie in that ocean of green
Sheltered by those aged and bent arms that form
The ceiling of a tent with the scent of
My grandmother’s blanket
The blanket that I wore as an infant when
Grandmother was putting me to bed.
I befriend trees
They’re so pure and naïve
never contaminated by the
complexity and ambiguity of human hearts.
Humans. Humans. Endless noise.
But
I can only befriend trees within the deepest corner
Of my soul,
my soul that resides under trees
swirling, silent, passionate trees
I felt that!
As I am not courageous enough to be
Discarded by the flock of white sheep.