write!

Stormed away like the tempest,
Carried away on a zephyr,
blown by the wind.
Controlling, is the night wind,
And controlled, is the one blown by it.

It’s convenient, at least,
That it only blows me in one direction.
Whether north or east,
In only one direction.

I wonder, as I watch
The leaves in the wind,
Whether they like it to be blown
In an air whirlpool.
They dance about,
As though they had not a care.
And I wonder, what it feels like

To be blown about like the leaves
Stormed away like the tempest,
Carried away on a zephyr,
blown by the wind.

Though romantic it may sound,
I am glad I am not like the leaves
That are gone at the touch of a breeze,
And stormed away,
Across my path.