The wind blows my words to you
and somehow it seems to
unveil the stories of yourself to you
and I remain somewhere in the shade
watching the light unravel its rays
coming out
it voices the cries
of reminiscence
of recognition
of knowing it all without knowing why
and the moment when the wind brings rain
the thunder rises to a purple sky
I can reassure you
there is more poetry to convey
in the darkest of the storms
not by my words
but by your light
°Woodlights Woudlicht
