WHISPERS OF THE WIND

If you could see me when I wrote,

When the cool winds shook before they froze,

you would know.

Give me a pound of your measurable love

Maybe just an ounce of it.

Whole winds creep into my room

Even when I think it is insulated

Growing thoughts penetrate into the mainstream

Even when I lock them away into a far away barn.

What I do have to say is usually very brief

But God is testing me by not making me

Get all hope in one go and yet

Not making me lose hope in hope forever.

Trips we made probably were the first time when we ever

Drenched ourselves in cold pneumoniac rain

The rainiest of the clouds floated right into our faces from below us.

People talk of epiphanies but right there

That past is the future that I saw in the present that I felt

When you were with me and my fireflies had a thousand colours.