The trees know some days i come to the trees with nothing leit to give no answers, no light just the weight of being human and still they welcome me no judgment, no fixing only presence a soft rustle, a warm trunk the hush of leaves like an old friend saying "stay awhile" they've stood through storms and through silence they've held nests and griet both with grace and when i lean in— really listen— they remind me that roots grow deepest in the storm