Waldeinsamkeit

Lyrics

The road ends here.The noise ends here.One step in, and the air is different.Heavy with pine.Heavy with time.My boots sink into centuries of needles.A soft give. A soft sound.My hand finds the wet fur of moss on a boulder.Cold and alive.The light comes down in pieces, in shafts of dust.It lands on my sleeve, then moves on.No one is watching.Nothing is watching.And I am not lonely.I am... held.This is the word for it.Waldeinsamkeit.Not the ache of being apart,but the peace of being a part.Here, where one does not speak...the breath becomes a song.The blood in my ears, a quiet drum.This is the word for it.I think of Eichendorff, walking these same thoughts.I think of the Schwarzwald, a dark green lung.The path is just a suggestion now.A memory of other feet.My own feet slow.My own heart slows.Matching the rhythm of decay and growth.The slow, patient work of becoming earth again.This is not emptiness.It is a great and silent fullness.This is the word for it.Waldeinsamkeit.Not the ache of being apart,but the peace of being a part.Here, where one does not speak...the breath becomes a song.The blood in my ears, a quiet drum.This is the word for it.Nietzsche wrote it down in 1883.Wo man nicht spricht, da singt man.Where you don't speak, you sing.And he was right.The boundary of my skin feels... porous.The air I breathe out is taken by the leaves.The air I breathe in was made by them.We are a single system.A conversation without a single word.Waldeinsamkeit.The forest-self.The self-in-forest.