or drops of blood, or hair, or parachutes,
or acidheads experimenting with flight
(misled believers in their superpowers),
or jacket, hat, and backpack of a child
returning home an hour late from school.
You are a tree....You carry notions of hope in your wide open arms
You are also the dancing breeze on the still waters of a mountain lake, and the deep blue surging waves of an ocean. You wait for miracles to unfold around you.