5.11.23

Once writing, I knew where I was, I thought I heard the sound of music.
Then here now, silence, confusion and misdirection at the very heart of things.
I do not know where I am in the forest. 

The other day I wrote in my notebook: loneliness is the entrance. 
And after that, nothing else.
Only loneliness was left, without words, leaving the door slightly ajar. 

So, again I am reaching for something new. 
More silence, then.