Wind Memory

Photo by Marc Kleen on Unsplash

I have this deep knowing
that is my past life, I was a part of the wind
a wisp
or a forgotten gust
That roam the world
touching warm skin
tasting salty tears
ridding the Atlantic waves
lifting broken birds
and at night, tucking whispered wishes.

Just eternally free
unseen
but always, always, felt.

So why do you think you’re here now, a mortal and grounded?
She asked.

I shrugged.
I’m not really sure, but I have a hunch -
that I wished for this.

For these fragile bones
and beating heart
that I long to wrap my arms around another mortal body
that I wish for a name
that I hope to write
and cry
that I hope to come back wind house someday
and to tell my own story, a little piece in eternity.