he and i seek the silent pathway through the green shrouded in the woven branches of the wood clutching fallen canes dead from the living trees my joy unbound blood from the past he and i on the silent path this is the way we know we go on dense and narrow barred by branches wrought in tangled webs a seamless tapestry of leaves and so it comes to pass we go our separate ways solitary course to a place of rest crashing through the calm thick green this is the way the only way hard and coarse is the path to our place of rest