A cool breeze of air within the midst of autumn storm. The storm is coming, but I won’t head back inside. To nurture my soul; this is where I belong. Fleeting wind, take me with you. We’re nomads, traversing across the streets of cities. We have no home, but the ones we declare our home. From dust we came from, and to dust we ‘ll return.
i’m standing
within the midst of autumn storm. Listen and observe—
Cars passing
People running
Lovers cherishing
Leaves colliding
Dew glistening
Bells chiming
Birds singing
Waves crashing
Trees swaying
Flowers blooming
Petals dancing
to the songs of our people. this is the smell of life
brought by the autumn breeze within the midst of storm.
listen
buses commuting
Sirens roaring
Friends conversing
Couples arguing
Merchants bargaining
Drunkards cheering
Constructions booming
Subways deafening
Metal clanging
Glasses shattering
Animals scurrying
Pigeons cooing
Rain drizzling
Coins falling
Cups filling
Beggars hoping
_while i’m just standing…_
