In the trees, I find myself again.
Nature pulls me home.
I chase Mandelbrot’s fractals in bark and river lines—
patterns repeating like a warm, rough hug.
The wind carries my brothers’ voices,
the water keeps their rhythm,
and when my hands sink into the soil,
I breathe.
I touch the infinite.
The fractals remember us—
their pattern, our pattern.
I am still with them.
We are all fractals.