Under the bright sunlight kissing the spring leaves,
northerly wind quietly surged across the rivers,
towards the awaiting shore.
Lightly touching the canopy of green leaves,
Above the shimmering blue sea,
It shifted it’s gaze as quickly as it could be.
The direction it took was far astray,
Having crippled a branch,
it had bent it as such,
The tree standing at the shore felt,
as if it had been unwillingly touched.
The wind had moved along as it had come.
For a moment in time,
left its presence lingering through space,
It neither paused nor waited for anyone.
Far away quickly the cold-dry wind blew,
Unaware of what the branch had felt,
or of what it had itself done,
it held absolutely no clue.
Through the days that came,
Many more exotic sites had it exploited by then,
Many more leaves were moved carelessly by the wind,
Distant and trenchant it brushed through them in a gripping rush,
And then forgetting all it had done,
It continued to move on endlessly to the next,
with an unforgivable hush.