The words I write are written true;

they come from where the old trees grew.

Trees speak of wisdom from the past;

from times when shadows were long cast.

They come from where spirits are known.

They come from where first seeds were sown.

In simple words they are my truth;

word learned from spirits in my youth.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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