Feather in a Wind

We’re wrestling with an ego, searching

for closure. It

featured

somewhere in our teens. How could we

know:

young to

science, unfamiliar, even

walking backwards?

I met her stamping minds,

but couldn’t quite

see her. I was

bold in an introduction,

distant from an old

occupation.

She wanted to tell,

laughing in silence, absent to a future.

I

saw it, but spoke little of prophecy.

She now knows a story,

threaded in faith.

I hope all isn’t taken to heart.

I live a few regrets, sometimes dusty

in spirit, speaking in a

low tone. I soon feel something yogic,

nudging us forward.

I join in, one of many;

but this is our life.

Watch us make right, page to page,

ushered

by friends and

family.

A journey is motion, ever to climb, to

dance a

melody. Some say empty is full, life is

gray,

even pain is joy.

I add to it: Spirit is comic, where

humans

stand a helm.