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The Charger Bulletin

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Thoughts

I long to hold the wind
So I may know the weight of thoughts,
For both can bend the trees
Yet shy away from being caught.
But nets woven from wishes
Only scatter their direction,
While some blink out forever
To avoid closer inspection.
Perhaps if I am lucky
I can pin some in my ink,
But they’re just tiny ripples
In the ocean that I think.
For even though they’re endless
They are not easy to share,
Most are only born
To dance with the breezes through my hair.
But maybe that’s their secret;
Why they’re so hard to record,
Is like the wind their magic lies
In being unexplored.

-e.h.

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