I once dreamed to become a tree, so I visited the tree outside of our home every day, and prayed to it, "oh, I want to grow up to be like you." Everyone laughed at me; only you said to me, dream tall. But I was only four feet tall, and my tree was ten, I cried. Dream tall, dream that which you cannot yet see, you patted me on the back. I looked up to the tree and watched it shed its leaves years in, years out, and your hair grey, and I still hadn't become a tree. One day, I came out of your funeral. I ordered an espresso at a cafe nearby. I see a tree in my espresso, and I hear you say, "you see, that which you cannot see." Learn to dream, at this moment, dream tall.