Echo
Surely you know
you can’t talk
to a stone
unless of course
you are the wind
and nothing changes
anything
unless you ask it to
confess
your cause -
connect yourself
to what you seek
so near the end
where whispers blow
upon the source
shaping contours
and who it is
you’re searching for -
unless of course,
you are the wind
and on you wend
like dustdrift thrown
like spirits flown
like feelings shown
and on you go,
my friend.