I used to write

About things and about

Feelings and about experiences

That is until I

Studied a winter tree

Free from its leaves

I noticed a similarity

There’s one central thing

That makes all other

Things possible I knew

Then that writing about

Was different than writing

From and that simple

Idea made the difference

I am the tree

My words the branches

And readers its leaves

It’s almost here and

I’m already there and

It’s strange this and

I’m just waiting and

It’s feeling different and

I’m getting excited and

It’s about time and

I’m on my way

How can I

Being so small

As to fit

On a pin

Think myself big

I’m a dot

A blemish even

Just a blink

My mind thinks

That I’m bigger

Than I am

It’s my heart

That knows though

That you are