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Speaking to the Wind
I had only one thing on my mind
that October morning.
A desire most likely,
or could it have been a hunger?
I know not.
The day was rainy,
the colors were dull,
but the wind held a certain ambition that morning,
one that was nothing less of astonishing.
The wind took me by the hand and yelled at me,
the way quite like a mother does,
only this time I listened.
and nonetheless, I felt it too
I felt the freedom the air had brought
I heard the laughter of the creaking trees
I savored the victory of the late bird who got the worm
I applauded the girl who fell only to get right back up.
From nothing, I had found euphoria.
From the little things, I had found joy.
From forgetting about formalities, I had found strength.
From appreciation, I had found inspiration.
I remember dancing with the world for hours,
until nightfall came,
and all be gone
and slept in hopes for another day.
The day never came the same again,
I never seize to forget
that October morning,
when I spoke to the wind
or rather, the wind spoke to me.
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