Everyone goes into the forest to seek their tree.
Whether it is a coffin or door is a mystery to all.
Today is my day to walk into the forest.
Shall I bring food?
Or perhaps a death shroud?
Both grow heavier on my back with every step I take toward my uncertain future.
The cool, soft forest air soothes and ushers me onward.
My tree calls to me patiently.
Once near the gnarled, hard oak, I reach forth with gentle courage.