Heal Thyself

There is something twisted about “planting” a tree: like debating a Trappist on the virtue of silence, raising mice to feed a cat, pumping ground water to fill a river, or gathering fat pericarps to scatter beneath the munificence of Quercus fecundus.                                           

In a thermodynamically adroit world where the sun is never lifted from Strata, nor dropped from the Enola Gay, trees plant themselves.

Yet no "sapient" can afford to ignore the imperative PLANT A TREE! Nor what that imperative portends, though it now seems
too late for even our deep-rooted friends?