What grows from the void of an uprooted tree?

Little sprouts from remaining veins

still connected to the source of all things

will go on against all proposals to wither.

But then what becomes of the paper mulberry?

Oh, he will be just fine.

Do we mourn his passing or sit in grief?

No, we will make good use of his bark

for paper to write tales of his life

and we will eat of his fruit and we will smooth

tremendous sculptures with his rough leaves

and we will marry under a great arch

built by his gently shading arms

and before a humble altar

we will rejoice in the gift of his life.

And what shall I do with the uprooted mess of my life?

Oh, you will be just fine.