Dances Does the Wind Blow

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Dances Does the Wind Blow

Should l listen to outside now, as wisps skirt the edges,
And become lost again within the swirling of my mind,
Remembering careless thoughts and broken pledges,
Promises full of false hopes from a long ago time,

And l still listen to the beauty of the winds scattering,
Remnants of yesterdays across the ploughed fields,
Discarded mementoes of the ‘could have beens’ chattering,
Absently and unawares to what the tomorrows may yield,

Whispering tumbleweeds rolling before my eyes,
Gently caressing my soul back to the days,
When the winds of our lives were filled with lies,
Likened to cherry blossoms glistening after the rains,

Side-stepping the breezes of time, l lower my head,
Remembering the sweet dancing of the silent blowing,
Seeing and sensing all the things you said,
Upon the realisation of the all knowing,

That the four winds would blow their own dances,
Parting company for the remaining of time,
Understanding fully that it ‘twas our only chance,
Of surviving the storm and blowing out fine,

And so it was that it came to pass,
The four went each their sweeping of choice,
So that the dancing of time would last,
And the beauty of the orchestra would not lose its’ voice,

Now many seasons on from the parting of the whispers,
Conflict no longer rules the sky of memory,
The scattered winds are all that now lingers,
Of a once beautiful but sadly broken melody.

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