Open the window; let the air Blow through the room, and bear Away the thickest memories, Keep an eye on ancient trees.

The roots are tangled in the past: Remind me not of dreams unasked. Let sunlight filter through the cracks, Where verdant growth and reason lack.

We stand beneath the open sky, Our hearts unsheathed; we do not lie. The trees will whisper praise and care, While daylight dances everywhere.

• Philip Larkin