Rising towards the Moon, spying on the treetops, one with the beasts and the plants and the starry air.  Isolated, I get further and further away from the Settlements, leaving all my possessions behind.  The locket and the book and the pen and the fiddle and the flower and the petticoat.  They were not  rightfully mine, nor will they ever be.  

I am resolute and at peace with myself.  It is time.  I have postponed long enough.