What does the wind think
What does the wind think as it falls asleep by degrees, losing itself over the ocean illuminated by the Sun's last revelations? Does it sigh, as the dreams it will soon weave take over, pulling the earth into the secret contract? It is hushed by the dream wheeling life back to the dark. The Sun sighs, this is well known, as she lingers awhile, unwinding. Not a tsssss or a pffff sound, but a sigh: the Sun lands in her ocean and awakens, like the reeds at the waters edge in the evening breeze, to the mirage of her own dissolution. She is a dream of colors against the blue sky, that pulls back like a curtain to her reds, oranges, ambers and greens, which she throws like ribbons to the sympathetically whispered clouds, who stare and sing.
