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[ a forest, in that sense, is like a wooden casket ] - Sanjana Nair

Only one percent of a tree is composed of living matter.

The dead cells stack themselves up in rigor mortis, hardening and forming passageways to transport nutrients to living parts of the tree. 

Even in death, they're determined to make something of themselves.

We break down trees to build coffins -

Sarcophagi to decay in

Still selfishly refusing to make proximity and return to the earth that once birthed us. 

Still foolishly determined to haul our bodies from this world to the next, even if it means maintaining distance from the very object that sustained us.

So, the next time you walk through the forest

And you find the trees looming over you, 

A forest, in that sense, is like an empty casket- 

Waiting to house your remains.

Always remember, even in death, nature is determined to make something of you.


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