WHIPERED IN THE WIND

 

WHISPERED IN THE WIND

What are we if not the stories we have told
brought to us all in the whispers of the wind
from across the desert of time to the mountains of our  dreams?
Be we mute or resound with the thunder
of a large empty drum
where do these endlessly changing stories come from?
Some short and to the point
parables  for our everyday
or long and lyrical and full of passion
where the turn of the word and phrase  seduces
us with style, form and class
For the measure of a man or woman
is not how much they have
but what they did with it.
Some have only the seed of their being
proudly reflected in the faces of their offspring.
Others  have the sum of their great deeds
while the rest of us play our minor parts,
 mere
whispers in the wind.

We are like the wind
there is nothing that can hold us down
we are here for such a short time dear heart
and then we are gone
returned to the dust from whence we came.
 From across the desert of time and
to the mountains of our dreams
comes our song, our poems, our stories,
mere whispers in the wind
but
with all those endings we can begin again.
 What was imagined in our dreams
becomes the now and plays itself out
to  become the past
because nothing like this will ever last.
All of it
from across the desert of time
and to the mountains of our dreams

is 
whispered in the wind.


JWL
copyright 01/07/2008
all rights reserved