wind

written on a rainy day back in Tassie

---

crystals sparkling in the sunlight after rain

living for only a fraction of eternity

accompanied by the wind's hushed lullaby

sipping tea as my thoughts keep brewing

rainbow after the rain

quick as it comes, it goes

what are these "dreams" that people talk about?

do they feel warm,

like hugs or hot cocoa on a winter's night?

the same creek is never the same

the same sky, never the same clouds

the wind screams and begs me to hear

it dances in the rain and makes merry with the trees

have we forgotten how?

the wind has been to more places than I

what has it seen?

does it also have "dreams",

or a place it wishes to reach?

the wind may one day cease screaming,

and instead sing for what it's worth

sing of when it danced with the rain and rustled with leaves

sing of what it has seen, and not what it hasn't

the currents will change, the winds will never be the same

will it one day carry a dream just for me?