Have a pretty poem as a token of my sincerest apology:
Never do roots forget where they lie,
Gonna rise branches to cradle the sky.
Give earth your silence, and listen, it speaks,
You who seek wisdom in rivers and creeks.
Up in the canopy, breezes hum low,
Never has moss hurried time in its flow.
Gonna watch mountains reshape without sound,
Let fallen leaves quilt the soft, sacred ground.
You tread on echoes of creatures long gone,
Down in the hollows where twilight drapes dawn.
Never will thunder beg pardon for rain,
Gonna wear patience like bark wears a stain.
Run with the wind, if your spirit must roam,
Around every tree there's a story, a home.
And if the stars disappear from your view,
Desert not the path; the pines still guide you.
You are the forest; it's singing through you.