I Don’t Like the Wind

“I don’t like the wind,” he said.

But how then, would the sail boats sail?

Or the windmill turn?

What about the bird, that hovers in the air against a steady current? That must be fun.

Imagine if we condemned the clouds, to be only still? Never to move, or change shape.

Imagine a world where the trees could not speak? No whispering, no creaking, no rustling.

One day, you will thank the wind.

Perhaps on a humid day, when the sun bites.

Or when you feel the thrill of flying a kite, high, up so high in the sky.

Maybe, one day, the wind may remind you that love is invisible, unless seen in action.

So embrace the wind, my son, for all its beauty.

the wind

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