November 22, 2004

The Wind

The warm wind
Swiftly touching upon my hair
Lovely caressing my suffering face
This wind, travelling
Ages and places
To share this moment with me
And moving,
moving always
To be what it forever has been:
A feather so light
In this stone world so big.

This warm wind
People here are so familiar with
Bring hope from another place
Creating routes of space
Where there seems no way out
This breeze carrying
a scent so fine
Putting in place our part here
Reminding me of you
Who, whether it takes hours,
months, years,
Whether it’s elsewhere or here
Will be feeling it, too.

Paud, January 2004


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