A Wind That Has No Name Poem by Eric Cockrell

there is a wind that has no name,
that comes from within afar;
a song that wears a human face,
dust from a distant star.

a river that flows from heart to heart,
a fire that feeds itself.
a ship unmanned on stormy seas,
the hand that rings the bell.

a child is born, a friend has died,
and so the circle goes on.
the memories of the outstretched hand,
lives in the stillness before dawn.

i cannot hold or form with words
that which begins and ends.
so i'll fly to you with a robin's wings,
your lover, and your friend.