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Our Tree. Your name.
Pitter, Platter.
The rain that calls your name,
The swaying trees that writes your name,
The light wind whistling your name.
A perfect sanctuary.
My heart feels a tug.
Is it the rain that makes me think of you somehow?
Or is it your presence that my heart misses?
I make a wish,
That the branches of these trees would reach out to you.
That the leaves of these trees would lead me to you.
That the roots of these trees would connect me to you.
Like the epiphytes living on trees,
I long to climb your broad trunks,
To reach as high as your canopy,
To grow old with your crown.
I am missing you, for I am no longer me.
I had lost myself in you.
I need you to find me, to be who I am to be.
