This Breeze, This Wind

This cold breeze that hits my face,
I ask it what does it have to say...


Speak to me, I command,
It acts as it didnt here my demand.


It just continues on its course,
Without even a trace of remorse...


I felt it had a message for me,
But it didnt have the time for tea...


And kept flowing towards its destination,
With its own form of child like elation...


Not even  noticing my presence,
Which made me look for the essence,
With which this wind flows undistracted,
Such determination, how did it crack it?


While thinking of this I meet a friend,
Which puts this analysis to an end...