A name from the North

Dear Mother, 

I have missed you these past few months. 

Where did you go? 

I see you standing there, torch held high, yet you do not answer my calls. 

What does it take to see the dandelions blooming in the spring, yellow manes bobbing in the wind?

What does it take to see the sun slanting through the windows, to hear the tree frog's chorus in the night?

I talked to a tree just the other day, I was walking past and it did say,  

Well, what are you? 

Just a traveler. 

But what are you? 

Why, a human, of course, you didn’t know?