Poetry 'n Prose


The wind’s path
Can’t be written.

Neither ink nor blood
Will code the wind

Here is my home
Inside the wind

And where I belong
Is the wind’s core

Don’t ask for me
In fields or houses,

On the streets or mountains
Or among companions

Nothing I am is usable
Indeed I am so changed

By the wind, soon I’ll have
Become invisible.

By 67paintings

A dialectical site of poetry, painting and the odd musical excursion into the unknown.

17 replies on “Invisble”

That’s what I will think today, feel today, breathe today. The wind has no name and no face… and no judgements to pass: ‘good’ / ‘bad’. I love it. Reblogging it. Have a good weekend!

I share in the same fears as anyone else. Life and all existence is transitory. I’ve felt this in the wind, our life it that which brushes through the trees. Sometimes it accompanied with sadness and other times glad.

Thank you Meena for sharing my thoughts on your blog and with your friends. It is a wonderfully kind gesture and one I’m deeply touched by. Have a great weekend and time with your family. Many blessings…

I particularly love this one. It’s simplicity. It’s oneness with our selves and nature….good to read it again

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