Senses

Blowing gently, the wind cross my path
Stirring the air, arousing my senses
My mind moves slowly with the air around
And I feel it being lifted with the breeze
Yet in the same manner, when the mouth opens
Nothing ever goes right and the sense is lost

Glide

As I glide down the stream
on a peaceful day in May
In a small craft of wood
I drift around the bends
On currents of soften water
Adrift in this world of clam
As the world opens itself