June 03, 2002

I ride the wind
A tempest or a zephyr
spirit free and buoyant
touching loved ones softly
scarifying those who harm
my world.
My years are gaily coloured
Autumn leaves tossed in my wake.
Some crumble with the passing days
but dust of memory remains
to paint my revere.
Friends, lovers, children, parents,
enemies and passers-by
all have a place
as do the countries I have seen.
I rode love’s whirlwind
full many a time…
never finding rest
‘til now.
I try to paint my life in words
but find there are no colours
rich enough to picture laughter;
no hue dark enough
for depicting past despair…
What colour is a tear?
I ride the wind in search
of who I am
and find a complexity.

Posted by Midus at June 3, 2002 07:55 PM