The Wind and the Fool

What does the wind have to say?

Does it have anything to say?

Does it need to say anything?

A wonderful calm in a quiet breeze,

the perfect auditory canvas for the rustle of pine needles

and the overzealous woodpecker.

A moment that makes a fool think too much,

nothing quite as dangerous.

The wind, a fool, and the thoughts of both.

A computer in the pocket, in the car, in the television;

arcs of an unending stream of “knowledge.”

The word cheapened. Many a fool grasping to be right,

but never learned.

So often told how to live,

what to endlessly pursue.

Sit quietly amongst the breeze,

and a fool will begin to dangerously contemplate.

“Is it simpler?”

What does the wind say?

Where to go? When to be?

What to be? How to be?

Or does the fool just need to be?