A Mighty Wind

There is a mighty wind that is blowing right at this moment. It is not the wind

that sends sheets of paper flying through the air or rustles the leaves

on the trees. This is the wind that sets a ship on a course into the unknown;

the wind that presses against the sails like a parent or a friend.


There are windmills in the valley that welcome the wind. The bamboo

bends but does not break while some trees stand firmly against it

and some are uprooted and fall.  I do not envy them.


I want to be like fallen leaves to be picked up and thrown into the air

and sent flying across the land. I want to be a kite that has been set free

from the child’s hand. I want to hear the gasp and the sigh as I fly away

into the sky. I want to be a cloud, changing shape as the wind blows

harder and softer at various times of the day. Underneath the sun,

under the watchful eye of the moon, in spring time or in winter,

I want to go where this mighty wind takes me.


Around and around, over mountains and over valleys, over lakes

and rivers and the sea, over people’s houses, over a vineyard

in the south of France, over Mount Fuji, over a schoolyard in the Bay Area,

over by a geyser in Reyjavik, or by the crumbling temples of Angkor Wat.

I’ll land where I’ll land. I’ll look up to the sky and show my gratitude

with a smile on my face and a skip in my heart. I’ll pull up my backpack

filled with two changes of clothes, my notebook and pen, and an iPod

full of songs. I’ll land when this wind puts me down and with my two feet

walk upon this Earth and see more than I will ever get to see if I stayed

exactly where I am right now.


There is a mighty wind that is blowing.

Right at this moment.

I wish it took me away.

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