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.