I will not try to predict the weather.
I cannot describe where the breeze is from.
I do not know where the wind is going.
Today I met a tall stranger.
We talked about the future.
Each of his concepts were clear.
The ideas he had were intriguing.
In my distraction I became lost.
I do not know where I am.
I do not know where I am going.
I am not afraid of being chilled.
I walk proudly with my eyes raised.
The rain is easing and my wonder fades.
W. Wayne B.
Poetry book: Eyes of Hope
Follow me on Twitter: @wsmith1989