Friday, April 3, 2026

Of the South Wind

relentless winds

of my arid homeland

wail as banshees

within my soul

the cusp of energy

is a dust storm

raging in my psyche

this torrent is clearing

a path before me

all the tangled briars

of long ago loves

the twisted vines

traumas have cultivated

the stone mountains

that have formed

from iced over oceans

of emotions never revisited

all these are being swept away

to leave a smooth path

of Zen attuned sand

in its wake

upon the sand Fate

writes the way

to you


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