Lunge headlong from branch to limb, cling to each until it cracks. No plan to this life, no map for this canopy. Just the swing and grasp and gaze in ever-fresh fear and wonder, until I know that some day the next leap will be into nothing.
Lunge headlong from branch to limb, cling to each until it cracks. No plan to this life, no map for this canopy. Just the swing and grasp and gaze in ever-fresh fear and wonder, until I know that some day the next leap will be into nothing.