The air is thick with the scent of pine sap,

the sap sticks to the benches and then my legs.

Here is where I met the pines,

and where we learned to understand each other.

The morning air is filled with the sweet sound as it rises towards the pines.

Where a gentle breeze carries it higher than the branches.

And, though the songs may pass through their branches,

the pines know that the song is not for them.

This places has often been described as thin,

the pines know this to be true.

This is the place where I came to know the reality of thinness.

This place under the pines is the place where I found life.