I don’t know what the wind is saying
but I know what the soul of the wind is saying
it’s saying I can help you
and I can see through water
the language the wind uses in my hair
is not unfamiliar
it’s soft, like the way I touch you
at night under the blankets
but I can’t touch the wind that way
so I leave it alone
follow the voice of its soul
which assures me that my longing will be fulfilled.
I think that the mourning doves are of my mind
they enjoy the touch of the wind on their feathers, I know
but the way they stab their beaks in the ground
and wait, and stab again, and wait
they are alert for a different stillness
if given the choice
they would be women.
I don’t know what I’m saying
but I know what my soul is saying
I want to enter into a greater state of solitude
and a greater state of love.
— wendy burk