A Passing Wind
It never occurred to me
to settle for being
a passing wind,
I demand to be an
earth-shattering quake.
So how to be that?
I learned that there are several
parts of you,
transcending matter,
which breathe.
You inhale
and exhale
things even you can’t feel.
Something caught
me by the throat-
one in shadows-
and stopped my air flowing.
I had to stay sane long enough
to calm down
long enough
to find another part of me.
I had to find my
seismic spark.
I’m not going to be another
passing wind.
This poem is about:
Me