Winds whipping by,
blowing, faster, faster.
Life speeding up, a likely disaster.
I can choose two things.
down, bruised with impact.
Shaking my fist at the wind.
"Youre mean to me! When will you stop? STOP! STOP! STOP!"
Like a rock.
The harder it comes, the higher I go.
And ever going up and up, the valley? Its my golden cup.
And life, the wine which overflows,
and I am lifted as I go.
like a kite.
...he soared on the wings of the wind...