Real

He told her there was no reason
to fear clouds would
destroy the sky,
or trees weigh so on the mountain
that it would collapse

not that she said
that was her fear
but I saw it that way

as is said,
it cannot be
stained by confusion
nor exalted by
realization

so why do I find myself
yelling at the clouds,
losing myself among
the trees?

and why do I find myself
thinking there's any
problem with doing so?

what I love
cannot be hurt
by my mad dance.