A thought ,for long hibernated,
peeks out of the cave
The void so damped and cold.
Behold the water splashes by
A shimmering river does flow.

Stepping stones, slipping stones
With Long treads, Short threads
Over the water it runs.
Rubbing eyes, it welcomes fresh
And there the green-wilderness!

The jungle of meshed thoughts.
O my poor notion seems so lost
It wanders, it crawls and it mends
For it is the land of forsaken
But owed to ramble, it befriends.

Snarling snares it doth surpass
Move out before you turn into carcass
Merry and alive on road it ravels
Stirring whirlpool in stagnation
For travelling thoughts, let us travel.