Wind blows softly over grass, caressing every blade
free to dance and love and sing
left to travel, float and fly, to visit every glade
adventuring across the globe in a glorious drifting fling
we are the same as the wind, if we choose to be
to live life freely, to love where we will
wandering forth with smiling mods glowing openly
overflowing hearts spilling endlessly as a poets scratching quill
Yes the wind is free, as we can be, though it will never know
what it means to stay still in a time and place
to get incredibly lost in a person, ignoring times flow
laying there still, silent and smiling, staring at your face
to be no longer needing to wander, curiosity paused
to be happy to live sights already lived, ecstatic i would say!
though all things fade, in sadness this is known and caused
all things move and change, all things drift away
there is pain in this, a hurt that digs and burns
and in this we know something the wind does not
that this love, through pain and wonder, this is for what we yearn!
Yes the wind is free, to see the earth and experience every jot
we are can find what the wind cannot, no matter where it flows
we can choose to be more then just a wind
and, by the gods, just watch us grow!