The feather crashes to the ground.
On one leg stands a single crane.
The snow falls without a sound,
And birds quieten during the rain.
Awaiting words to read out loud,
To fill the silence like a shroud
Over my nose, eyes, mouth and ears.
If I don't feel, sound disappears.
There is no noise in the background
No more white stuff, hum or drumming:
The sound of nothing, black and round,
Knowledge of all that is coming.
There is a comfort in this place -
A status quo to celebrate.
No need to think, no need to race,
Enjoy the freedom to create.