Rain fell from the sky
as the clouds wept broken tears
for the lost beneath.
An old oak tree caught my eye,
as I stumbled, dazed and high
I sat down and asked for advice,
I was mute, and the tree concise
she showed me where my shadow’s cast,
and I knew before I asked
what has been, and will not be,
and what was tailored just for me –
how to heal the wounds I hide,
how to heal the wounds inside.