Riddle of the Winds of Fate

The wind like time Does not beg permission It does not pause for longing hands It moves illusively disappearing Coming and going Weaving the strands of tomorrow into fleeting dreams transcended From the bones of yesterday It waits unseen in silent stillness mummering with mystery charging into an array of constant cycles of energy Touching everything In its river of drifting sighs and huffing gusts Its anger devours with Screeching tempests Swallowing the lifeless forms Without discretion Making alive and moving All that lies in its wake At the crossroads of departure Spinning like a bird in flight You are taken in its wake Uplifted into its command Within the chasms of little choice Unsurmountable mountains of truth Lay just ahead in perilous wait Only to come to rest Succumbing to the valleys of peace To witness destiny