Where solid ground
is a drifting cloud,
Deep in the forest,
the only sound
is the silence,
cranked up—
blaring so loud.
I pinpoint each birdcall
down to the branch,
the rhythm moves me,
I submit into trance.
I hear my heart
as the cloud imparts,
so, I blaze my own way…
For, the inner crowd\'s
left these woods unplowed—
but I won’t stray…
Away…
from this drifting cloud.