still draft

Utterances crash
into a wave of a chant,
a walk through thich thick
density of a
wooden, burning forest
carrying cries
of the crickets in gathering
not around me,
but still I am surrounded
surrounded
lost in the intangible
chant of their chirps.

==========================

The mutterings in gatherings come to
form a collective chant, all
individual words, feelings, ideas,
irreducible, impersonal to the
quiet listener that repeats, mutters,
breathes and listens to the emotion
in the sigh of a hundred exhales
Surrendered to chants of the room,
unthinking in collective ritual,
meditation that
echoes to sacred writing
whispering utterances
to think of our meager utterances
collecting just to form a whole
our selves just forgotten, forgotten
left in trails, as currents
in some wind,
to be left scattered in dust.