there is
no justice in the world
everything happens
for its own reasons
like wind
the winds
blow themselves in all
ways I am not defined by the
wind and neither can I rely
on the wind and
I am not
wind I am what I are my
values just is
not justice
————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
acceptance wormhole: so much
identity wormhole: journal // then // sit
teaching wormhole: the spectre
wind wormhole: write / by the / night / of the / lamp
mlewisredford 
nice were almost having a similar thought tonight but yours is more gentle to read
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interesting, I was smashed with despair and fucking angry when I wrote it – two years on I just feel sad and gentle about it as you read … I hardly edited it at all in between
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Reblogged this on poojycat and commented:
I need to share this poem with others… just because maybe “there is” 🙂
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now THAT was cute … what you did with the title … reason for reblogging … ‘took the wind right out of my bluster
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🙂
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Who Has Seen the Wind?
Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.
By Christina Rossetti (1947)
This appears at the beginning of the novel Who Has Seen the Wind by W.O. Mitchell. I’m unsure whether you are aware of it but wanted to share. Both the book and poem are personal favourites. 💋
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I have heard of neither – must have passed me by in the night like the …
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Mitchell is ‘Prairie Canadiana’ and Rossetti is an English poetess c. 1800’s… and the wind is… there… 💋
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