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

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