The crack of thunder,

The peal of voices,

Pull out from the drive in theater.

With no one aware,

Nothing aware,

I recede into my own thoughts

Of a creek through the woods

And birds singing blues

And leopards who think of tiger stripes.

A beautiful meadow

Laid to rest by the power of nature

Encompassing all.

And each grain of sand

In all the deserts

Contain only nothing at all.

I step from my process

And into the void of accepting everything

As passing by.