Wind that blows in surreal flows,
after all that hurricane that washed its wounds,
even a sink hole in the clog,
appeared as a mystery untold.
Have you known the whirl winds?
burning fire that never crooks or shook’s,
or the sandy loop that stretches to the sky.
Even the rhythmic water has whirls,
coiled to the crust,
like portals for immortals.
Even the wind whirls with water,
as stars that reborn through stellar whirls,
awaited curls in abyss of welding steel,
cold as ever, like raspberry perfume.
We stay on moon, as if we are on tune,
as constellations in maze, became a haze,
we say there is the past, the origin we embraced,
as royal grace.
I dance in trace,
as we all sat engage.
Have you seen the celestial whorls?
you would be in dense,
like lightning and thunder in a winter moon light.