Teeming, seeming, . . . reeling. I take it in; the sights I see in the vast world of humanity. More or less, ebb and flow, shape me, change me. . . until I grow. I just don't know. The wind blows through the trees, just as a ship sails the seas. I hear the wind howl, and contemplate what that means to me. How the wind can impact humanity. If wind is metaphorical, then it could be political, religious, or just plain viscious. Vicious winds create tornados, and the winds don't have to be real to create the same. Sands shift, rivers flow, and still along I go. Not knowing, hardly realizing that something great might be in store. If something is in store, it will change the direction of the wind, cause the seas to whip up into a frenzy. Maybe, or it might just make one lazy and kind of hazy. Keep going, keep going; is what the breeze keeps whispering. Never doubt, never give up. . . keep it up.
Does this affect the traveler or the dreamer? No. It might be something better than they ever wished for.
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