The Wind Blows Poem by Etienne Charilaou

The wind blows
it seems only God knows
what it's all about
I often feel I want out
when the only game in town
largely sucks with some renown

Around and around and around
we go
What progress do we show?
If only I could be happy as a child is
with little things that wonder brings.

I need to walk far
but all I'll end up doing
is walking around the globe
I'll only end up where I began -
no destination, really.

We fetch mystery and wonder
from above with giant telescopes
but all my eyes can see
is the sole magnificent starry firmament;
knowledge that this is the Great Orion Nebula or
that that is the Great Andromeda Galaxy
does not alter the fact that they are merely luminous smudges
in the night sky.

I do not mean to complain.
I cannot really explain.
‘Tis the old refrain
of a soul in pain.