I set off.
I prepare my bag quickly.
I walk quickly up the track towards the trees.
The path rises sharply.
I am soon high in the hills way above all the rest of the sleeping world.
While sometimes the path drops down steep slopes.
The trees closing in around me.
Wind rushing through the trees.
Distractions from noises afar.
I am lost.
Lost in the Silent Forest.
I find myself.
The path too.
(The words represent a cross-section of the path I took, walking up and down until I reach my home once again. The words of the poem, changing in length, representing the change in altitude.)