The wind speaks in murmurs,
tales woven through the lashes of time.
In every gust, a whisper of love lost,
dreams unfulfilled echoing through the canyons of the heart.
I grasp the intangible,
my fingers curling around the essence of air.
Thoughts drift like clouds,
tangled in gravity wells of emotion,
pulling me down, then soaring me up.
Somewhere between the rhythm of raindrops
and the soft brush of morning dew,
lies a truth unspoken.
And here I stand, a mere wind rider,
skimming the edges of eternity.