Wind Of The Human Spirit... (Part Four) Poem by Eric Cockrell

i stood on the brink of tomorrow,
wading through the ashes of yesterday's failures.
i choked on the oil in the oceans,
and the smoke that filled the air.
i wiped the tears from my face,
and the blood from my own hands....
and felt the weight of humanity's sins,
the deep mark upon my brow...
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun.

'who am I? ' you cry,
'how dare you speak! '
i am nobody, i am everybody,
i am not me, but i am!
i am not you,
but i couldnt be else!
i am not more, yet i am not less...
and this task is shared by all!

for i am the wind of the human spirit,
where i come from nobody knows.
my destination does not hold me,
for i am because i blow.
i blow in the name of freedom,
justice, equality, and dignity....
my language is compassion,
my name is every name!