silent wild fury
descends from deep heights
quiet I stand
made of secrets
woven of desire fear music stories
almost blind
wonder at the grand firs
pressed down with white
so weary of the weight
at a slight wind
powder cascades
from some high branch
in a silent explosion
a salty tear
born of cold
born of wonder
born of secret pain
born of mystery like the stars
washes its path down my whitened face
I move on through the thick deep silence
