Branches creeping and crawling towards unknown destinations,
groping their way silently.
Deeply in thought, contemplating the twists and turns their
lives must take.
Gently blowing with hesitant gratitude, the scent of fate
into future destinies.
Carefully tripping over important matters, leaving the
mundane to care for themselves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem