arqios
the wind speaks
the wind speaks
I hear the wind—it speaks,
not me
as footsteps fade in floating dust,
it bends the trees, it shakes the sea,
then vanishes like thoughts once held.
As footsteps fade in floating dust,
the past dissolves beyond my reach,
a fleeting voice beyond my hands,
its echo shifting, never still.
The past dissolves beyond my reach,
it lingers only in the hush,
I hear the wind—it speaks, not me,
then leads me on without a trace.
It lingers only in the hush,
then vanishes like thoughts once held,
its echo shifting, never still,
I hear the wind—it speaks, not me.