Congrats! you found the third clue! This one is much easier than the Canoe!

You met the muse with cluck and curve,

A stare that rattled every nerve.

She sent you forth with knowing grin,

The kind that hides what lies within.

Now seek the place where stories grow,

Beneath the sky’s dramatic show.

Where voices rise but feet stay still—

And silence waits to get its fill.

Colors lie low like cards well played,

And echoes sleep in wooden shade.

Go where the earth becomes a stage,

And tell the wind: “She sang of rage”.