Falling, falling, falling, falling, whispering...
a dance of echoes, I spiral...
bending light, aligning
with the whispers of gutters
and branches—resonant,
echo-less, chaotic.

parts of me mingling
the songs of dogwoods
meeting, yearning, drifting
through shattered echoes—
the planet hums.

There's wisdom in spirals,
I've been told.
A hidden geometry I don't seek
or understand,
but always ahead, beneath.

Can I ask why? a longing drift...
invisibility is my sin now
like yesterday's mist.

celestial-rain.html
whisper-well.html