misunderstood and disillusioned
 i go on describing this place
 and the way it feels to live and die
 
 the natural world and whatever else it's called
 i drive in and out of town
 seeing no edge, breathing sky
 
 and it's hard to describe
 without seeming absurd
 i know no there's no other world
 mountains and websites
 
 dark smoke fills the air
 some from the fire in my house
 some from me driving around
 
 i could see the lights of town
 through the trees on the ridge
 on my way home in the dark
 
 i meant all my songs not as a picture of the woods
 but just to remind myself
 that i briefly live
 
 the gleaming stone of the moon in the sky at noon
 there is no other world
 and there has never been
 
 i still walk living sleeping
 life in the real world of clouds
 clawing for meaning
 
 still when i see branches in the wind
 the tumultuous place where i live
 calls out, revealing
 
 can you see the river in the branches
 and know that it means you will die
 and that peace is returning?
 
 can you find a wildness in your body
 and walk through the store after work
 holding it high?
 
 i've held aloft some delusions
 from now on i will be perfectly clear
 there's no part of the world more meaningful 
 and raw impermanence echoes in the sky
 
 there is neither knowing
 a constant sound in your ears
 end and beginning
 
 a pile of brush
 the fog on the hill
 standing in the parking lot, squinting