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I speak into the wind,
but the words come back;

I speak with the wind
and the words sail along,
just waiting for capture,
and I wonder…

Will my message be heard
by those I wish to hear? Or,

will a tree whisk them under its leaves
and keep them as its own? Perhaps,

my words will wave across the ocean,
greeting mariners as it goes?

Or, is it possible that my words
may never leave but
get caught in a whirlwind
and dervishly disappear?