Poem: Back Then I Didn't Know the Wind

Back then I didn't know the wind
The world was much healthier than it is now
And I could go anywhere
I became the sky, I became the sea
I became the breakwater
I became a cargo ship on an international route
I became a seagull
I became a small pub on the wharf
I became the guitar of a guitar player
And traveled from town to town

As I pleased
I could be omnipresent anywhere

I became a large cherry tree at a hospital
And watched over the life of a certain girl
I became a tabby cat at a fishing port with an auction market
And welcomed the fishing boats returning from their catch
Or, at an ironworks smelling of heavy oil
I became the scattering sparks and scorched the stones
When the twilight began to wrap around everything
I became the bare lightbulb on a utility pole
And exchanged words with the insects that gathered around

I became light and illuminated the darkness
I became rain and washed away the soot
The frustration, the resentment, and the sorrow
I became a song
And snuck into aching hearts
Though I myself knew nothing, wherever I went
The towns were overflowing with excitement, and with dreams and hopes
Words sparkled like diamonds

A day, a month, a year
Seemed to me like
An endless, distant peak
That I would never cross
At one time, I was omnipresent in every place
Like sunlight, like rain, but
Every place was like that person
I always thought that it itself was eternal
And that it would be born again and again
Repeatedly

When did I
Cross that boundary?
I don't intend to naively say that back then
Everyone held the same countless dreams and hopes
But on that day when I ceased to be omnipresent
I knew the wind for the first time

I became able to go anywhere
And I became unable to go anywhere
The wind was full of freedom
Like a yacht crossing the ocean
Everyone tried to surrender themselves to it, but
Come to think of it, the wind goes nowhere
It just blows there; when I realized that
The world began to look downcast

That day I knew the wind, but
I never became the wind
No one ever became the wind
We build spires far higher than the clouds, and from their tips
We gaze at the wind, but no one
Tries to go anywhere
That memory of having been omnipresent in all things
Perhaps, it is what calls forth emptiness in the heart

To the young ones, are you
Omnipresent right now?
Are you seeing everything you want to see
In every corner of this world?
Right now, you should be able to go
Anywhere freely
You should be able to become anything
Because, like me back then, you
Must still
Not know the wind yet

I feel like it's a bit forced... as I read it back. Well, let's leave it at that (since no one else will say it for me).
Every time I open the newspaper, every time I see the news on the internet or TV, I feel like the world has become unhealthy. Writing every day, it seems to have changed from how it was at the beginning, and I end up writing things like this, but I still feel like... I need to correct my course, I think to myself...

Oh, that's right, I need to write "What kind of flower? A poem? Is it?"

By the way, the title image is of some pampas grass near my house. It's a photo from quite a while ago, though.

Thank you for reading again this time.
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