Lock, lock, and unlock. Every door a danger. But beyond, a multitude of voices, an exactitude of each. I listen as they’re calling. Each voice in my own throat. Subtle clear collages blessed with ambiguity. The written note. The campfire. The seed planted. The curled chameleon tale. The dragon. The glistening turquoise egg of it all. The joy in seeing, knowing, daring. This unquestionable and one true song calling, always, to go outside.