I am not hard

at one time I tried

became stone

nothing permeated

nothing released

did not

could not



we are taught rock is strong

able to smash, smother, crush, cover…

in the breaking of a rock

– unless you find the rare agate –

it is same from surface to source

little of interest or innovation


and I saw of air

soft as summer breeze

could muster the power

of a thousand stones

yet exists as the essence

of each dear breath we take

sweeps the hair off baby’s brow

tickles the neck of sweaty lad

whips up the skirt in temptations tease

stands still in the meadow listening to flowers bloom

blows the scent of those flowers to the girl sighing in wake

carries that sweet sigh to her fathers ears


instead I chose air

to fly in the force of its gentle gale,

torrent my winds if I must

but each day live in the flow

that can kiss so many and

whisper Her words


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