wind from the east
it keeps its own beat
in rushed whispers
like a ship
going downhill
a water slide
to the ocean
where it can
relax
and take in the view
sailing sounds right
it is less about the movement
than it is about the experience
as a whole
when first i sought to overcome
the steps i thought i had become
i looked for signs in wooded pines
i looked for sails where none prevailed
i searched the trail where dawn had shown
and paths the stars forever known
igniting rocks and tunnels deep
crisscross trails up mountain steep
and even under water bridge
where time forgets and silence begs
but nowhere showed the faintest sign
of what i’d guessed already mine
until i sat beside a tree
and arched my back into its knees
and settled firmly in one place
my search then over, my disgrace
and as i hung my head and mourned
the loss of understanding torn
from where it seemed to once belong
i heard a note a single song
and listening with my both eyes closed
red images as daylight froze
i pushed myself into the wind
and heard my witness softly bend
and undulate well past my mind
bore me away
the sound of
one
