I see the plants blend in odes
amidst mighty mountain stones,
out of the chaos of their form
in low entropy against the sun's
Cascade of winter's brood.
& listen until there's only breath
in the silence of their stealth.
How still they keep, beyond reach,
As if to know, this sound of touch
is where i belong, as only man,
where they are, long before i began.
What matters my perception!
Even as the hoopee's cry
breaks in flight across the sky,
they turn to the life they enfold,
silence, beyond the chaos we behold.