When in the realm of too-sentient things
I hollered and flapped and broke both my wings
I wailed and screamed and beat my breast
The wind blew by
I screamed to the wind that there was too much to do
The wind agreed,
that he was busy too.
“Well, how can I rest, while I’m running this race?
I never get ahead, a slave to serotonin, confined by time and space,
You wouldn’t know! You just swirl around, as free as you please.”
And then the wind made an amused little breeze.
“Me? Where I want? HA! Don’t make me laugh.
I go where I must, loosing wheat from its chaff
Where temperatures drop
there are storms to make
where water levels rise
there are storms to slake
If only I could choose, and go where I will,
I’d spend much more time just being still.”
“How do you choose which task to do first,
which work is good and which work is cursed?”
“Sometimes I destroy. It’s not mine to choose.
I don’t control what people will lose.
Like water goes down, by gravity coerced
Circumstances hound me, extracting my force.”
I considered for a moment
how I’m kin to to wind
and asked, calmer then,
“So how do I choose the tasks that I should
with my twisty mind spinning
How to be bad or be good
My systems at war
Over where my energy should go
Wind, tell me, how do I know?
Give me your wisdom please!”
And the wind swirled his cloak
And said “Follow me.”
So I rode on his coattails
Floating wild and free.
Through hurricanes and blizzards and wildfires we rode
Over and over, the wind destroyed.
“Why?” I asked him. “ WHY?”
Sadly he said “ I can do no other than what I do.”
I screamed and I screamed “I am jealous of you!
I hate all my choices! My mistakes are my shame!
You do your business and never get blamed!”
I sobbed and I whined of my responsibility.
The wind sighed, and let me be.
“All you can do
is keep with the flow of truth
Truth isn’t soft. She never shields.
She shows you blood as well as green fields.
You must see the beauty within the brutal
If you ever want to be at rest.
The wind blows the way it knows
The humans act as they learned best.
You have to learn to face the flow.
You won’t be able to stop the shame
until you learn to stanch the blame