The Wind and the Road

The wind on the winding road...

The road, stretches out, like a vein that meets other veins

The Wind, as the blood within the veins, rushes through, as if breathes it's own life

For there is no life in blood as just itself 

But in it, there is life to self what it is within.

As the wind, winds through, as action,

The proof of it,

Is the reaction

Of those it gives life to.

And so

Without the other, there is none.

As my hand is holding the staff, it stretches

But I cannot without my hand

Hold onto the staff

And the staff alone, cannot be held without the hand to hold it.

I cannot hold, without an other.

The road conjoins

Linking together in it's journey, the passengers of life.

For without the passengers it is not a road to walk upon.

But a line that says, Here is here and there is there, within it's distance.

The road stretches out like my hand

And no life breathes upon it but another

For without those to breathe the life, there is no breath

And without the breath,

There is no life.