A maple’s root draws secret maps
Through mineral rooms and earthen gaps;
It charts connection out of sight
And feeds the crown with borrowed light
I press my ear against the ground
Where ancient rumors turn to sound;
The roots advise: grow deep not fast
Let hunger learn a home at last
Above the leaves conduct the sun
A choir of reds that sing as one;
Their music proves that gifts return
To those who listen more than yearn
I fold my haste I plant my will
In soils of patience dark and still;
A hidden network answers back
Grow inward first to stay on track