Can You Make Any Sense Of It? Poem by Mark Heathcote

Life is a forceful wind
a gust of static electrical air
we can't make heads or tails of it
it smacks us hard in the face
or it gives us a soothing, gentle kiss
it circles the ground where we walk
but it is ungraspable; it is inert and invisible
it is ever-present yet passing by, however faint
you cannot follow what hasn't yet manifest
or comprehend what is ever-changing
it is an illusion to believe otherwise
only a fool can say where it starts, begins & ends
are you a fool? Should I follow a fool
can you say you fully understand its nature?
Life is a wind that brushes beside you & me
as it sweeps us up like a paper bag
and drops us back down
like a lover leaving town.
I ask you, can you make any sense of it?
Are you in control of it?
If you are, then what is it?
Life is a potent-wind
I don't know where it begins
but I know it sometimes sings and has eternal wings.