A Poem Riding in on the Breeze

9 Apr

I once drove up a hill

in the darkness of ungodly hours

to stand outside where I could hear

the wind making it’s journey through

the silver tipped moonlit trees

I wanted to see

if I could catch a poem

perhaps some words

would hit me while floating in on a breeze

Poetic notions potent enough to penetrate thick skin

and a mind that won’t remain still

forever fleeting further from realities

I needed the wind to ride me in a rhyme

or a moment

of defiant superficial shattering clarity

In strong winds,

I close my eyes

and imagine where the wind has been

whose hair its whipped through,

whose tears it has dried,

whose songs and laughter it carries,

and I try to receive

the messages that the wind

is carryin’ on to me.

 

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