the ballad of empty cloud

follow the trace of the flying raven ⋅ never knowing what’s front ⋅ what’s behind ⋅ there might not be a shadow to lie under ⋅ but still we can pluck the strings of the passing clouds

sounds they make when nobody is listening:

dreams the forest ⋅ five trees later ⋅ vals for winter butterflies ⋅ un-dance above the tree line ⋅ the ballad of empty cloud