The Gate

Klok

Drift

Something a little different, the core of this was written while on a camping trip with friends, including the river and camp sounds. This was the interpretation. I also wrote this to go with it:

early sun breaks the cold.
ancient trees rise and sway.
relentless white eddies shape the world and soothe the mind.
define, refine, connect

dark rhythms bind.
we stoke the fire.
thoughts and voices mingle with the mountain air.
celebrate, inebriate, forget

the light grows dim, the shadows long.
we venture into the pitch.
away from the fires, the sky unfurls.
encompassing, eviscerating, majestic

still there
still perfect
still...

words can't capture, but we try.
transfixed by fire, edges soften.
we drift in unison in the dying firelight.
communion, reflection, surrender

only the river remains.
lulling, constant, serene

Luminous Machine

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