Can you hear the wind?.

It has rushed for millennia
it whispers to me
in sleepless nights
tells me
of freedom.

Wind songs, wind fingers,
wind wings, they paint
for me the images
of castles that were
shrouded in the mist
but clear away the
winds victorious
they touch and feel
and they reveal
the truth
that is the truth
for just a single instance;
when the touch has
passed so does become
this truth the past
and new folds
backward into old -

these are the tales
the wind has told.