The Calling Wind Poem by Zyw Zywa

The wind is calling me outside
it's exactly the right wind
to walk in the wonder

of the long avenues
that enchant the air
with swirling blossoms

and restrained, start singing
in me with joy
mixed with sorrow

for the falling, away
from life, away
from the leaf shoots

the swirling awareness
that it is almost over
however much I would have liked

to stay and respond
to the call of the wind
the calling wind