Collection 1: Perspectives and Perceptions

I do not know where I'm going,

but I always arrive.

You hear me, but I am silent.

I make words, but I do not speak.

I am not always fast.

But I am never still.

I do not always bite.

I may brush.

I may wrap around.

I slip along the hills and plains,

the mountains and valleys,

the deserts and forests

I carry petals and seeds across fields,

and shrapnel for miles across borders.

I remember neither.

I don't always strike.

I am on the ground,

but I don't need the ground to move.

Sometimes, I may linger,

but I'm not truly lingering.

I may be cold.

I may be ominous.

I may be warm.

I may be inviting.

I may walk the ground among you,

with grace or with malice.

I do not gauge my movements

in any particular pretense.

You may smell me in the fruit

just as it's over-ripened.

Feel me in your sleeves and

down the back of your shirt

as I walk with, and around you.

I come and I go.

I go where I please,

yet have no control.

I open doors, and I slam doors closed.

I may cool the skin.

I may burn the crops.

I am indifferent,

I take with me what comes.

Some follow me,

but I am never to be found.

Some brace against me,

but I am incapable of being stopped.

I do not arrive for anyone, even myself.

I am here when something ends,

just as much as when something begins

I am in motion.

I am motion.

I am change.

I am everywhere.

Every time dust rises and falls,

with the hairs on your arms,

and the light of a flickering candle,

I am there. You feel me.

And something always comes with me.

Even though I did not bring it.

I am not a cause nor an effect.

I simply am.

I am not prayed to,

but I hear the words of everyone,

the sounds of everything,

as I pass through, but

I haven't made a sound.

I go by many names,

even by all the things

that cannot name me.

Whether by word,

or by action.

I am Wind.