Every now and then I forget why I’m here. Nothing can matter if you have no fears. Anytime I feel the earth under my feet, I’m reminded of grounded nature. The sound and the beats of leafs. The hum and whistle-whir of engines in the street. The daily meet and greet of walking-onward’s. Burn it use it but never waste it. Too many do; I walk in the forest instead. Connected through my limbs to the ground and transcending with sight beyond bounds. I discard thoughts of absolution. I will never find solace in retribution. Yet, I may find resolution here. Down and ground and twists and earth-made-rock-steps traversed only by large bounds, upside down, hanging without a sound the pale oak-cast shadows that drown, over the lake that speaks in tongues which confound those who never look around.

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The stars look high but the sky is low.
Got just one thing to do and nowhere to go.
They lie again and again to me.
A realistic outlook I will not see.
Time flies by so rapidly but
I run with it defiantly.

Twisting, diving, spinning and turning. Watching the flow drift and soar, weaving patterns of worlds up in the air. Energy that warps, bends, has no end. Like a lucid dream that never wakes. Water silently roaring, cascading down, falling into the deep abyss below.

Under the earth where the water falls is a lake of emotion. The limestone walls are of lies and pains. It flows into a steam of time through the tunnels of direction. Sight leads to the left and an endless fall. Collapse. The right leads past the walls and outside, and can only be traversed with word. Empathy.

Outside the trees grow tall, the energy spirals and the stream flows between them all, into another lake. Ripples form on the surface and meet. Scatter. Converge. Waters meet as one lake, one mind. Time ends. The winds pick up suddenly. A storm carries droplets into the grass where they sink back down into the earth. Cycle.