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The Wind

It's windy here this morning.

I noticed the wind shaking the tender, new leaves of spring roughly. The boughs looked as if they were shivering on this gray, chilly, May morning.

They were dripping with rain and it looked like ice.

I thought about the wind and how strange it is that something we cannot see can shake the trees. How odd it can make me shiver and a chilly morning even colder. The trees were my reminder that the wind comes and goes as it will and I cannot summon it nor can I diminish it. I can only experience it.

I don't know where the wind comes from or to where it goes. All I know is that it is.

It makes me think about my life. I don't know where I come from and I don't know where I'm going to - all I know is that I am. Where yesterday went and where tomorrow is, I don't know. I do know for sure there was a yesterday but I do not know for sure if there will be tomorrow.

I am like the wind. I have affected others because I am. Others have affected me because they passed through my life or because they are passing through it right now.

Like a gentle summer breeze you hardly notice, people have come and gone in my life and I scarcely remember them. Others have come and gone but I'll never forget them. I am better, or worse, because they touched my life. One thing they all have in common is that all those who have touched my life in the past are like the wind. I don't know where they came from and I don't know where they've gone. Some of them, like the wind, shook the boughs of my life; some shook me gently and others shook me harshly - but all that remains now are the memories.

The wind can wreak havoc and destroy entire cities; an unimaginable feat for something I cannot see. I wonder how many other things I cannot see that have such power?

I feel so out-of-step with the world this morning. But I feel in touch with memories of yesterday, and in touch with the wind. I feel that today I belong with the wind and memories, and other things I cannot see but I can feel.

I don't know where love comes from and if love leaves me, I don't know where it goes - all I can do is hope that it comes again. I think I know that if it comes again it will never be like the love I felt

before. It may be better or not as good, but it will not be the same. The difficult part of that is that I have to accept what comes - and what goes.

How very strange it is to sit here and watch the wind that I cannot see. I cannot see it but I can watch it. Like an apparition, it sneaks into the day and then sneaks away - and when it is gone I have known a wind that will never come again. For tomorrow I may feel another wind and the trees may shiver again - but the wind that blows then will be tomorrow's wind - today's will have blown away.

I don't know where I come from and I do not know where I'm going. All I know is what I can know and that is that I exist. Maybe that is why on this gloomy morning in May I feel at one with the wind. Watching the grass wave and the trees bend as they're touched by the invisible hand of the wind.

How strange it is that something I cannot see

touches me so beautifully.

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