I am feeling as if the breeze is blowing only away from me. Not towards and then past me but more as if it has started, just beyond my reach and rushing away.
If I were a sail I would be dull and lifeless. Impotent, useless. A dry leaf, I would be still and quite. Dead.
Were I an ember from a once raging and roaring fire I would just cease to be. No longer a threat or a gift. My dying act, the last breath, a wisp of smoke. Slowly disappearing, unnoticed for being so still.
Yes, I feel I am trying to see the wind blow from behind. There is nothing left for the air to effect, move, touch. Just thin air – unable to be seen.
No direction can I turn anymore to get back in front. I will forever be behind, reaching for the untouchable, never again to feel it against my flesh.
I was foolish to think I could hold, even for a moment such a force of nature. Foolish indeed. Even more foolish to be saddened by my failing. It will come and it will go as it chooses.
A V
The Gori Details 
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