I met a tree. The tree said she was thinking.
"Is sadness the falling leaves?" The tree asked.
"Is it joy when the ants tremble slightly when they reach the end?" The tree asked again.
I thought about the four seasons, the withering and the prosperity, but the tree still couldn't figure it out.
Until the woodcutter came, the ax was raised and dropped, and the tree suddenly realized:
"Is this pain?"
I nodded, the trees fell over, and my thinking ended at the moment of collapse.
I left, I shouldn't cry, I'm just a woodcutter.
Mission: Caring for mental health
