What a Wickedly Lovely Wind

Oh, what a wickedly lovely wind I sail upon,

Twisting and deceiving,

Where I thought I'd be,

Who I thought I'd love.

But what a fool I was,

To believe that thoughts deserved reality.

For I know well enough now,

that is the furthest truth from existence.

And what a beautiful current I float along,

For she has taken me many places.

She has given my heart love,

She has taken it away.

Love is a cycle of depletions, 

and replenishing. 

Though we animals fight that cycle,

It is only because we lack the ability to foresee. (Not that one such exists.)

But what a creative breeze I live within,

with many softened colors that lack purity.

Life is not pure,

it is an endless, seamless, boundless painting.

There are no lines,

no distinctions.

I have no end, believe it or not.

You have no beginning.

What a lucky space I travel within,

How could I be here without having left there?

How could I know this,

Without having lost that?

I am still hurt, that's true.

But I am no longer as ignorant as I was.

And what a gift that is,

to learn.