The Wind

Cold and unable to breathe,
Walking.through.this..
Just trying to conceive,
a thought or a picture,
of something once known,
trying to be strong,
not knowing which way to go.

The salt on my lips is,
a reminder of such bliss,
back when i was unafraid,
young,
pure,
so seemingly brave.

Walk straight,
hold your head high.
"remember, its not right to cry"
for to be strong i musn't break,
these chains of tough exterior,
i once did make.

And then the wind,
so light and true,
brings me back to something ionce knew.
i remember when i'd sit and sigh,
be not ashamed to love,
to cry.

Reminders of a midnight dance,
the stars so bright,
the leaves would prance.
The wind gently lifts,
my hair away,
to show a face of joy through pain.

And now so young,
in spirit, not tongue.
Remembering to pray,
through struggles each day.
As something sneaks,
in my closed up room,
reminding me I'm not alone,
for all this fear,
uncertainty draws near,
as something else becomes so clear.
The wind-through many nights and years,
swifly blows,
blows away my tears.