Mystery

I am the stone beneath the wheel of stars.
No matter where I stand, I am looking up.
I am a feather upon the wind that sings the song of the voiceless.
I am the breath that calls forth the thunder and lightning
I run along the ground like shadows playing with tumbleweeds, scattering the seeds.
I flutter magically like the eyes of children watching a flower.
Who am I?
The wind whispers like the thoughts of my inner soul;
never willing to let the words exit outloud,
Yet whispering the words and feelings to the trees and grass and waters heals my heart until I get soft and entombed inside.

(8.10.93 J.E.Todd)

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