When the wind catches me,
like a billowing sail-boat,
All of my cells, pack in close,
Skin pricks with bitter cold zest,
As a gust sees the sun’s close to the west.
In cold comfort I know,
with each bellow and blow,
the molecules of air are there.
Carrying me through life, through time,
I am supported by your eyes in mine.
As the whistle of the wind sharpens my wit,
the molecules; past and present life, overlap and fit,
they show me the wide open skies,
of possibility and unyielding hope when one tries.
An infinity of cycles is the tear-joyed cry,
when life seemed closed and I could but sigh.
A vibrancy of life, every era and now I,
We are one. I am me. I am I.