A 
                tree in the Snow
              Twelve days ago
                I sat alone in a room
                Thinking my thoughts aloud.
              I wondered
                To be a tree,
                with a snow that had fallen lightly
                through the night.
                I wandered.
              Which world is this now?
                Will it be the same one in the morning?
                Again in the night,
                Or ever?
              And it wandered.
              Does the world turn under my feet
                As I stand still
                Like time in the wind?
              Pure momentum.
                Speeding along without relativity
                Standing still 
                Very fast.
              Alone in my room,
                I sit thinking as a tree,
                And knew what it would be.
              My limbs stretch unwavering
                In the soft newfallen flurry.
                My motion in time is outward and unyielding
                As snowflakes caress my deep-rooted soul.