The Girl and the Dreaming Tree

I met a girl in a forest when I was a tree, Her face revealed she was lost yet somehow free. Intrigued by her presence for the woods had few, Who wondered around the dreams in my mind’s view. I grew from the soil settled on a shattered path, Split into seven by confusion and it’s wicked wrath. “I don’t know where to go from here,” she said aloud, To what she thought was but the husk of a vacant crowd. “Where are you going,” I asked to her surprise, That a tree would speak with neither mouth nor eyes. “Nowhere,” she muttered with a meek defeated voice, As she pondered which path would be her choice. “If that is so, then your choice does not matter,” I said, “For anywhere will take you nowhere until you’re dead. Find your way wherever which way you go, By the time you arrive to nowhere is when you’ll know.” Disgusted by my advice, she ignored the tree, Who meant to say that she was really me.