Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Wind.

Long days, I’m trying to make things right.
Long days, I’m trying to get through them.
Long days, I’m stressing myself through them.
Long days, I’m floating through them.
I see wind, I hear wind, I feel wind,
And there’s this constant battle between me and it
And in it I feel so weak, but I keep going.
It pushes me back, my little body so insignificant against it’s large mass.
In a moment time slows, and I feel all of it.
It consumes all of the space around my body and it moves me.
My hair on ends, my feet to the ground, and my arms lifted slightly and I call out into this wind,
“Save me.” Nothing.
I call out once more, “Save me from everything I am becoming.”
I drop my head back, I look up into the sky, I bring my hands up behind my head and tug a little on my hair, but I keep moving.
There was no answer, but I knew it.
Time resumes its pace, and I stop.
I drop my arms, I look straight ahead, and I keep moving.
I see wind, I hear wind, I feel wind,
And it moves me.