Invisible
my mom tells me
that when I was very young
I would run and run and run
asking her the question --
"can you see me?"
"can you see still me?"
knowing for certain
that I would be invisible --
so fast to be only a blur,
like the wind
now I see the wind
soaring alive with freedom,
curving currents
carving away mountains
shifting all of us slightly
with each whispered voice
that asks a question
knowing for certain
that I am invisible --
so powerful to the touch,
like the wind
that when I was very young
I would run and run and run
asking her the question --
"can you see me?"
"can you see still me?"
knowing for certain
that I would be invisible --
so fast to be only a blur,
like the wind
now I see the wind
soaring alive with freedom,
curving currents
carving away mountains
shifting all of us slightly
with each whispered voice
that asks a question
knowing for certain
that I am invisible --
so powerful to the touch,
like the wind