My mother taught me to speak.
My father taught my tone.
Lessons learned are easily forgotten
without an environment in which to thrive.
The hourglass trees recycle the atmosphere.
Sending their roots down as anchors.
A reminder to balance when stationary.
Moving is an effort not to be taken for granted.
A struggle in my mind can be repetitive.
The same thoughts dripping out of my mind.
Like some sort of water torture
Or buzzing and ringing at an uncomfortable pitch.
We are responsible for each other.
For the animals and plants.
The seas and the skies.
Suffering, at our inadequate hands.