Zephyr

listen to the wind blow

The wind was a dervish

Dissipating the fallen leaves

In ever-widening circles to points uncharted

By cartographer-sages working

By the exhalations  of an ancient oil lamp

 

It had been building in momentum

As it whispered over quiet lakes

Shivered above a mountain glacier

Strolled through a small town

Scampered around peaceful sheep in a verdant meadow

Rolled headlong through the countryside

  A train behind schedule

Roared through deserted cities like a holy man

In search of disciples

 

Soon though it dissolved

Into a tranquil murmur

Forgetting its original purpose

Dying of a chronic ennui