The Steering Confident Wind

Tip of the leaf is drenched in the fray
Dust of happy countenance calms the tree
Wingless birds saddled up the mountain
Heavy stones left their place for the valley

Gazing at that home built in wind’s pipe
Even without a fall it whistles a direction
For water moulded by the waving hope
In the town detaching the fire from its wood

It’s the quickest hunter of every fruit
Some gather the wind for unique vibe
While some are surrendered by the wind
The wind is a friend, a steering compass

Take me ô take me precious wind
To that unbending island made swift
If I have but a chase of the centuries
?Where will be my place to discover

– Kanayo Ebuka