from a place you cannot see
comes a sound you will not hear
but do not fear:
alive is the tree
you put your life behind
alive is the morning
you set out to feel.
a sound you will not hear
from a cry you will not near to,
a mere galaxy of words you hold not dear to,
fear of a blank planet steers you
veers off into the night,
the way dreams do
the fulcrum point 