Look at the leaves lose life as they fall.
They’ll settle on the ground and wait for your feet.
Listen to their sounds.
They are Bodies.
Little corpses scattered on the ground.
Making shelter for the nothings that live beneath Earth’s shell.
The wind Blows through the bony fingers of the trees.
Howling, mourning the death of these little ones.
They will nurture the worm.
To make the soil Mother Tree feeds from.
It is here that the Children help Mother grow.