Eddies of Wind

-
I craved for a gentle breeze,
To waft the freshness of air,
Through me;
To rejuvenate myself,
From the worries and tangles;
Relax for a moment,
And be prepared for,
More to handle.

What struck me, instead,
With a swooshing sound,
Was whirling dust,
In eddies of wind.
Left me jarred;
Gifting, what others discard;
And kept me wondering,
At how salve turned into abrasives.

But there I was up again,
Even the next day;
Making myself vulnerable,
For the play.


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