“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.