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Wind

At begining,
I was a breez.
That time the snow
was alone.
I touched on the lotous buds-
born from,
the navel of the sea.
I take this shape at last,
by some one's works.
That time,
You was the sea.
I wrote in you,
at the blueness of the
ocean of letters.
'Will you wait for me? '
'For ever, every where, '
you'll hear what my,
pen have to say.
You said.
I belived-
that has a smell of promise.
I made waves on you.
But you are like a statue,
like one
don't know any thing.
Enough,
i am going to the
mountains of time,
as air,
as invisible.
In my old shape,
As a wind.

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