The windy breeze
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traversing a journey
through the winding streets.
Upon the mountain peaks-
It finds itself thrust within
a strange warm force-
friend or foe? it does not know.
As it finds it gains new speed,
It does not mind this new encounter.
Artfully dodging, nudging and budging
Swaying in and swerving out
Ah the wind it is satisfied!
Across ferocious seas,
Towards high lands and sweeping dust,
boring down young and old
challenging them on their paths.
Gracefully it weaves, sometimes tired
If it could speak-
surely stories would be told.