Collapse the mirrors of your soul
walk through the valley and inhale…
Recite the numbers in your head
walk through the pastures, but wait…
A wind flurry is stirring ahead
feel nature at its best
recite the numbers out loud
– one, two, three- I’ve found
a gust of wind caressing my skin
as the valley closes and I, breath
At the edge you’ll find
tension rising
catharsis releasing
wind billowing, stirring, and whirling
If you step off,
the wind will embrace you,
inhibitions will falter and
peace remains
-MP
The art of musical poetry 