In Dante's Divine Comedy, suicides become trees in hell. I suppose denying God's gift of thought is a form of suicide ... and hence your wish is ... apt. Would you want the pain of harpies eating your leaves for eternity, though?
Umberto Eco's great whisper is fascinating ... your poem whispered Dante to me ...
"wish I was a thing that could live without having to think .. " ... No need to be a tree in order not to have to think - just be your average British pro-brexit zombie :))