When you plant a tree, you sow the thoughts of leafy morns and lovely afternoons. You plant the thoughts of beauty growing beneath the countless suns and moons...
A crown of thorns he wore
On that judgement day
He carried his own cross
To show us all the way
His crown was not of gold
With jewels made to shine
It was made for pain
Alim held out his hand and took the shemai. He tried not to eat it quickly. He tried to savor it and make it last, but it disappeared from the paper almost before he had felt its weight in his hands.