I was sitting on the root of the tree and fell asleep.
The root spoke to me.
The wind interrupted from time to time.
I woke by the sound of empty can blooming into a flower from the recycle garbage can.
The root spoke to me again.
The wind interrupted again and the root reached out its hand with its branch.
It could touch nothing.
I can see that I was like the root that could not touch.
1 could not climb to the top of your mind,
And now I understand that I was nothing more than water
pipe of the tree.
You followed me even into
When I spoke to the sleep,
the flowers kept their mouths shut all at once.
The wind held its breath, too.
The morning of when I woke from a deep sleep,
I see roots hanging from the end of a branch.
By Cheol Su Yeom
of Bundang-gu Songnam,