A Meditation For The Pallid

Can you hear it? Listen narrowly, this is wind.
Sit still…your constant movement is depressing the silence.

Shapeless, formless, oh to be as the air.
To move with such harmony, in and out of avenues,
Through the branches of great oak trees.
To touch the mountain summits, and skim the seas.
To compress a city to the ground with one simple gust
To direct flight and get people where they must.

How I wish I shared your liberties,
How I wish I could move with such ease.