By Don / Date: January 17th, 2017
I wished it to stop driving
The sand into my exposed face
Imagined grit
Of suffering I had not had
Bendings never experienced
That had not broken me
Strengthened me
To which I had risen
Made me worthy of all I desire
Struggling, stumbling, falling
I bowed down
Covered my head
In my heart
I saw I was the wind
And ceased to blow.