thewind

you go: to where
you come: from there
but where is there
and what the fare
to cross so many a border?
lines drawn by men with silken casts on
broken minds, with stealthy crafts and

i will find
you, though your flight is unseen
and your escorts demean all
attempts to glean from your

beauty, wisdom
and i follow, i follow
always i follow
that i might without passport of mind

cross the lines