III: On The Origin of Wind#
The shape of wind in blades of grass,
Invisible heartbeat,
I watch your dance from windowed room
In rising summer heat,
Your pressured pulse that skips through sky
With history unseen,
I wonder where this prologue starts,
what ancient chorus scene
Announced your birth on fertile Earth
and blew the trumpet loud;
Who called to you from great beyond
to tend this court of cloud?
What sight will see your silent state
which spans expanse in dark?
What ears will hear your solid plea
which leaves in naught its mark?
What moment did you rise to life?
What second do we praise?
Your source, like form, is hidden close
In foggy, timeless haze.
In tracing back your tangled threads
they twine around and spool;
Each point begins with points before
Always as if by rule.
March 2025
Date |
Publication |
Status |
|---|---|---|
March 27, 2025 |
Think Journal |
Rejected |