I am like the wind,
gathering the perfume of lilacs and the industrial stench,
delivering storms and ripping through the sea
and then controlling the tide and whispering apologies through the trees.
Like the wind, I cannot stay,
only linger and wish I were more like the mountains
flying only at their leisure and never alone.
I trail remnants of seasons,
and as this intrinsic force pushes me onward,
I long to reside,
to retire my travels,
to be still.