A little something for when you come down from the top of the tall tree.
When you do find that tall tree, and,
You stand there with your bare feet upon, the bare earth,
Looking up at that first branch that’s just out of reach,
May you stand upon the shoulders of giants, and,
Be able to climb, race up through each foot to the tree,
Hand over hand, ducking and weaving a puzzle of craggy branches,
Higher and higher to where the leaves knit like cardigans,
Beneath a Summer sky, and a fresh breeze,
To reach above it all, even if just for a few moments,
“Its the little things, that matter most in life.”
To the best of times, to living the unknown and to you.