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Go into the woods and tell your story to the trees.
They are wise standing in their folds of silence
among white crystals of rock and dying limbs.
And they have time.
Time for swaying of leaves, the floating down of dust.
They have time for gathering and holding the earth about their feet.
Do this.
It is something I have learned.
How they will bend down to you so softly.
They will bend down to you and listen.
