The path through the wood is long and clear
I need a place to sit and think
When I dwell on thoughts that I hold dear
I sit in a tree and don't blink
The branches above me sway to and fro
The patterns form animals and faces
It helps me forget the world below
And the troubles in all of the places
The wind disturbs me with a cool breeze
It makes the world grow colder
The meditation I held with such ease
Dissipates as I swiftly feel older
It howls through the trees
I taste its sharp bite
My shirt covers my knees
As I cower in fright
The ordeal must end
To flee the blue dome
I turn 'round the last bend
I am finally home