[as yet untitled]

From the whim of the water-fed wind
comes the echo of an idea:
to be, and to be filled with light,
and yet to be still the same.

Whatever is the wisdom
of the water-fed wind,
it stills carries with it the knowledge
of mysteries and mountains,
seas and seemingly ceaseless cities—
the contructs of earth and ocean
or the ambitions of man and mind.

And these cravings, whatever they are,
build the broad-bound earth as we know it.
Its streams and streets,
they reflect a spirit born
with the mind of Janus, god of years,
of doors and days that lengthen
both ways, of nights that never end.

Weary of identical days, the craving
for different days rises up in the wind,
and blows across the rolling earth,
stirring the satyrs and the nodding nymphs…

What will they do when the storm comes up,
the inevitable story of season and solar system?
Oft do I wonder what the faeries and goblins
think when the sky spills its secrets.

Whatever the musings of myths and men,
the world will go ‘round as it always has,
orbiting the ocean of light and space,
regardless of wind and water and want.

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04.22.02
MWL (written as MCW)