i am walking through the gully, bright green ferns sharing the cool air with me. next to me is a song. a mild tune, gentle voice, unassuming. i sit upon a fallen log and listen to the song. it floats here and there, i am surrounded by its lyrics. it has so much to say, and then nothing at all. it whispers and hums, a buzz or two, and then nothing at all. after it settles down, I ask it, 'how did you come to be a song?' its a pleasant song sitting down to chat with me. 'i have always been a song, i was made this way. first a whisper from there, and hum from over here. a buzz or two and here I am.'
the ferns sway as the cool air pushes darkness over us. the song begins to float away. i call after it, 'hey! when will you sing again, hey!?'.
'Tomorrow!' comes an eerie howl 'same time, everyday....'
