in the here and now, nothing else awaits

words by Brian Thompson, photo by Jennifer Picard Photography.

i opened my front door
and a gust of change
came and swept me away;
and so i chased the wind;
in hopes to find all my tomorrows.

but in the here and now,
nothing else awaits;
in the breeze of yesterday’s sorrows,
all my worries are left behind.

i chased the wind,
and found it running
through canyons, ruins and red rock hills;
through riverbeds, hoodoos and sandstone cliffs.

i chased the wind,
and found a desert flower,
nestled between blades of grass;
its smile radiant, its petals serene.

i chased the wind;
i followed it 'round a mountain bend
and found a herd of thirty-three elk,
crossing the road in single file,
one by one, each looking out for their young.

i chased the wind,
and found it blowing through alpine trees,
and in the barren flats,
whistling throw the juniper and pinyon pine.

i chased the wind,
and found it giving flight
to the feathers of birds,
and carrying all our words
ever whispered, spoken or sang.

i chased it
through rain and snow,
sleet and hail,
and through winding tunnels
carved through hearts of stone.

i chased the wind and felt it kiss my face.

i chased the wind;
but in the end
it returned me to myself;
all this while,
it was pressed firmly against my back,
nudging me along.

you see, the wind goes where it may;
with no dwelled upon misfortunes,
no over-pondered pasts,
no misguided misconceptions,
no worry of what might never come next.

and so i chased the wind,
but when i found it impossible to catch,
i let myself rest easy,
leting its infinite, effortless breath
take me wherever i best belong.

brian thompson