My parents came from the valley,
From beyond the distant hills.
Such is all they ever told me,
With questions, my mind did fill.

Born and raised on an isolated beach,
I knew of no worries or woes,
When idle pondering did finally reach,
The question of how the wind blows.

I asked my parents if they knew,
And my father handed me a knife.
He said the cities might hold a clue
For answering questions about life.

He said the wind has always blown,
He did not know how or why.
Such knowledge to him was never shown,
The thought only makes him sigh.

He gave me strange clothing, in which to dress,
He had kept them stored away a long time.
Soon he did pray for my soul to be blessed,
Using strange words, like law and crime.

“Millions of people abide in each city
And live until they die together.
Surely you will learn words like pity,
For I doubt it has gotten any better.”

I said “Tell me father, if you will,
Where can these cities be found?”
He said “Go and climb over the hill,
And you will see them all around.”

I put on the clothes my father gave me,
To cover up my body from sight.
He said wearing them would surely save me,
Where nudity is not thought to be right.

Taking the knife, its use still unknown,
I set out to find the rest of mankind,
Without whose culture I had grown,
And whose culture I was soon to find.

The first sight came from the top of the hill,
And my mind was stunned in awe!
Ignorance did make my thoughts stand still,
I was astounded by all that I saw.

Monsters, I later learned were machines,
Roared curses into the skies.
I witnessed their part in many scenes
Where paved architecture lies.

As darkness fell, the city was lit
By street lamps and neon lights.
For the first time, my spine was hit
By chills from unknown frights.

In mindless courage, I crept up near
To peer at the wondrous sight.
I bent my ear, in wonder, to hear
A siren that wailed in the night.

The people hurried through the street,
Silenced by the monster sounds,
Never stopping for another to meet,
Though others were all around.

At first I thought they were in a race,
Like running with father on the shore.
Weariness showed in many a face,
As if they barely could run anymore.

Hurrying so fast, they must miss a lot,
Limited to the degree that they see,
Without knowing what they have got,
And despite their money, it is free.

Awestruck at the edge of the town,
I was fearful to walk through,
Afraid of what was seen all around,
But curious for a closer view.

Deciding to chance a walk on the street,
I came barefoot from the sand,
Bruising my feet on the hard concrete,
And I could not understand.

What substance is this that replaces sand,
Where one cannot walk, or lay?
Who claimed the right to kill this land?
What do all the rest have to say?

Suddenly appeared a truck, then a car,
Rolling on rubber, down the concrete.
I wondered if this road went very far,
What demons have built the street?

Gaining the attention of a man walking by,
I showed him of my bruise.
He laughed and said that I should buy
Something called walking shoes.

I asked of the shoes he talked about,
He said they were gotten at the store.
The site of the store, I tried to find out,
He pointed to a building’s door.

I entered to be met by a man called clerk,
Who said he would help if he could.
I told him my feet, on the street, hardly work.
He explained that with shoes, they would.

So I learned to walk in leather shoes,
But shortly I was arrested for theft.
Not knowing money or about its use,
Without paying for the shoes, I left.

I was taken by men in matching clothes
Who all acted and talked the same.
I asked how long until one knows
How to play such a complex game.

Nobody answered but with a frown,
And not understanding, I smiled.
Locking my hands, they took me down,
And said charges would be filed.

They took me to a building for a trial.
I told them what had occurred.
They said I had to go to jail for awhile.
I left without saying a word.

Unaware they had done me wrong,
Until they locked me in a cell,
And then it did not take very long
To judge it all to be a hell.

The city had locks on almost every door,
On windows and most every gate,
With walls growing out of every floor,
Seeming to divide and to separate.

Invisible walls inside men’s minds
Made it difficult to communicate.
Love was stifled and hard to find,
Replaced by fanned flames of hate.

I watched as human beings walked,
Each going in a different way.
I listened as human beings talked,
All different in what they say.

Many seemed as though to complain,
According to words they would tell.
It seemed as though they were in pain,
Yet their bodies appeared quite well.

Born to live on the wild seashore,
In a Garden of Eden type scene,
I should not have looked for any more,
After knowing what heaven does mean.

Eagerly I hoped, awaiting my release.
Slowly, the end, time did finally reach.
I fled directly to the freedom and peace,
Left so long ago, on my father’s beach.

I still do not know how the wind blows,
But I am certain that it blows for me,
And for every soul that rises and shows,
We were meant, like the wind, to be free.

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