A Lover's Question Poem by Rory Hudson

It’s a lover’s question
that’s asked by the first breeze of spring,
freshborn, still new and shyly venturing
among the buds of green beneath a blue sky.

Caressingly it asks:
Will you be mine?
Will you come with me now
along the way where I will go….
Which way, I do not know,
but you will grow,
dear ones, in knowledge of this world,
your hearts unfurled
and open to straying in far fields.
North, south, east or west,
the breeze knows not, but the breeze knows best….
Come with me now….

And many are taken by the wind
that bloweth where it listeth
and end in foreign fields, unfurled
beneath a hard sun, dessicated dry
in knowledge of a world
no longer green.

It’s a lover’s question
that they ask now of the breeze:
was it in your words
or in the world
that once we came to know
the way that we would go?