I felt a tree's heart one summer
Night after the heatwave;
The wood was damp where abandoned
Roots drew the cool groundwater, still
Trying to make cells, shade, and scent
As they'd done for more years than I
Walked by without pause,
Until the tree was gone.

Were one race the human race.

We all have a different sunrise
       and we all set differently.

Who decides how we awaken
and how we slumber.

Us,  
       its our life,
we choose what we open our eyes to.

And we slumber on the thoughts

                       of everyday passing.