see the fallen leaves
contort into laughing, crying masks
as drama unfolds
in your mind.
Tilt your head
like a bird who has heard a worm
the voices in your head.
Who lets them prattle on like that?
Look straight ahead at the walkway,
that the trees, animals, birds and insects
are mere distractions,
when the path itself is the only real goal.
Now in the clearing
Tilt your head back,
follow the solid trunk
past the tree branches bent toward the sky
that clear cloudless expanse
is the mirror for your original mind.