Tenaciously I gnaw at the tree of knowledge.
The bark becomes brittle to the touch.
For what is knowledge without application?
Swinging from its branches, I’m encased in wonderment.
I fly from its grasp and land abruptly.
For what is knowledge without perspective?
Looking up, I watch its leaves turn.
From newborn green to elderly brown.
For what is knowledge without flexibility of new understanding?
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