Flowing Calm Of Wind

Flowing Calm Of Wind

It is a brook
that cannot be found;
One can only hear its sound.

It lathes its own path,
a course straight into our
heart. Little veins
of blue;
deeply cut grooves in mother earth's skin
up in a sky that isn't there,
I find but cold, pitch black air.

I yearn to understand
the flowing calm
which I cannot follow.
Its rippling torrent
swells against my chest;
It cries, "yah-yah ah-hay shima!"
         words meaningless
         to a deaf ear.

So I listen anyway,
by chance to swim
high up in its force--
a force forgotten to consciouos man
where life
began.