The forest is at peace tonight with quiet white shadows
The birds that fly past present themselves in the most astonishing way
The wind between their wings glides with the stars and the moon

What is it to say that these words are still falling as the stars and the moon
I have lost myself again only to be found flustered, beaten and cold
On this, one of many chosen paths
Gliding from stone to skulking stone
Must I continue to wait, I am lost