The Wind

The wind blow through these trees so fine,

but you blow through this heart of mine.

The wind blows over waving fields of grain,

but your name bounces around in my brain.

The wind blows over the frozen polar rimes,

my words can not pierce your cold eyes.

The wind blows into the steep canyon precipice,

yet my name still does not cross your lips.

Why is this the thing that you cannot see,

why can’t you belong with me?

Images of you behind my eyelids teem,

I see you in every thought, vision, and dream.

The wind blows through these trees so fine,

I see now that you can not be mine.