No ropes are these, my hands, to bind the wind,
To part unyielding currents from herself,
Or fix my earthbound breath and so defend:
As fallen leaves on wind, I've lost myself.
Forever winds have played and danced the weather;
What stormy clouds e'er reigned while wind said No?
What birds have soared the air though broad of feather,
Unless beneath spread wings, wind bore them so?
Your love is as the wind - it blows me over;
It sweeps me through and carries me along
To where I may not lay until life's over.
Alone, I'll struggle not but still hold on.
A bird with broken wings taught me to fly
On love as hers - the wind that fills my sky.
-October 31,2005
David Zvekic
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/font-color-880000-to-where-i-may-not-lay-font/
