She became what she was to become
rustling, rushing
capering in mischief
sometimes soft and warm
wrapping around the whole being
sometimes working up a storm
wild enough to shake the will.
combing through leaves and branches
setting off music and magic
whipping, bowing branches
bending mighty trees to her will
sometimes she played and tumbled
in the humble grass.
she hummed, she roared
she sang, she moaned
in joy of becoming herself.

No longer was she a river
banked and bounded
thirsting for futile Union
rushing into the embrace
of the mighty ocean
taking with her a little bit
of every land she crossed
never saying no to the umpteen
filth and follies of people
living on her shores
muddying her eddies and waves

now she flowed and frolicked
over river, oceans and mountains
unfettered, boundary-less
flowing up and down
with equal ease
for no other reason than to please
and fulfil herself
she stopped nowhere
nothing stopped her
uncontained, uncontainable
taking nothing, owning nothing
she belonged nowhere, to none
she became wild and free
She became…
… the Wind.


9 thoughts on “Becoming…

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