Grabbing on to the plane, you fly – clouds above and below/
Hours later it continues, as does your belief that this is the way /
You find a way into the plane /
The doors lock /
Now you are stuck, bloodying fingers as you scratch towards the outside /
There is only one way out /
The once-plane lights up the dreary head-space /
Flying on squirrel wings you glide down at a pace of a shooting star /
Having no way to stop the descent, the clouds break apart /
Tendrils of light illuminate the mountain-scape /
A path, a pattern /
It is your way /
Something is wrong /
How did you end up on your back and why is the sky so… clean? /
Turbulence from the plane rocks you to the…
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WILDsound Festival 