These are days I am fed inspiration by every fraction of light that passes through the field

Everywhere my eyes fell there was life

This corridor between lanes of madness and ineptitude

Natural tranquillity creeping back in on the margins, wherever a berth is given

Gnarled cypress, veteran, relic of time before the decimation

A ****** of fish crows is not burdened by the thinking mind

They disappear into her embrace because they were born knowing what to do