Read intentions like scattered tea leaves
Take a gulp of green, a rush to the limbs
Their opinions will fall silent against the wood
Fragments of chatter reduced to crackles
With each confident step through the brush
Maniacal laughter, sharp voices, incessant clicking
Cranked down to a dull roar—to nothing
A heuristic method of finding power
For the gentle soul and her adventurous spirit
Sits at a desk to dream professionally
Surrounded always by labels and price tags
She envisions a world where there is nothing
Except quiet and oak