The tree tops reach down to grab me,
Their thin, fragile fingers twisting around my waist.
They bring me up to my secret treetop,
Where only I can go.
It holds all my deepest secrets,
And all my greatest treasures.
I whisper them to the wind,
And from there they blow away,
The words hidden within their long, billowing cloaks.
They travel very far,
Farther than the Earth's edge.
They fly around the galaxy,
And shout to the moon and the stars.
The stars pass on my secrets,
To the sun, and the moon.
The moon shines down on my treetop,
And I know it is listening.
The branches throw me up into space,
Where I gaze at all my friends.
I fall from space, and land on a swing.
I swing back and forth, back and forth,
Until I grab hands with the clouds,
And feel the heat of the luminous sun.
I swing until I have no more,
I swing until I can't go on.
I go to my treetop one last time,
And share one last secret to the wind.
The wind flies around,
With a sorrowful feeling as it soars.
It flies past the moon and the sun and the stars,
That I taught how to shine and twinkle.
I hear the whispering of the stars as I gaze up at the night sky one last time.
And drift away,
Carried by the wind.