Photo: Canva.com
Along came the wind
Thus the dead speak swift as the wind?
The chiming tunes,
The thumbing thunder that rolls,
smashing the hills in moments of grace.
Our rushed lives are not too fast to die
yet we tumble on,
masticating our masturbated minds
overpopulating simple thoughts.
Lost in a haiku:
It rained today the emptiness
I am found by the lost and scarred
stripped bare-naked by the wind.
We speak as fast as the wind can change
but we spare no time nor change;
I drew a dart for my heart
on it is left for the dead to read.
Along came the wind,
Her beauty unseen through my blinded gaze;
upon drawing my attention from afar – she screams!
Pulling me in her naked violence – listen carefully.
“Thunderclouds bare their weight
for those who pray and wait,
so it is my fate
that I can sweep clean what is on your plate”
“I may howl or whisper,
o’er prowling marshes bending trees or reeds
give me your ear your innermost ear
and I’ll leave you light as a feather”
She pressed her breast against my chest
she spiralled through the emptiness;
for I am a field and she its maiden,
blowing the lost leaves away, away with the voices of the dead.