As I stand on the highest point
of the mountain, hoping this time when the wind blows my heart will know it is
as free as the wind.
I remember, when the wind used to
blow fearlessly, laughing loudly, sweeping all that was around. After
dispersing my hair to all directions, then it used to walk past me and turn
around with a sneer, telling me I am not free, and how wasted I am for not
being free, I carried extreme feelings of jealousy, for I could feel how
free the wind was and how rigid and chained my spirit was, how thirsty this
spirit was to blow around just like the wind, at those moments I hated
the wind, but its strength and confidence used to leave me speechless with few
tear drops over my cheeks, when the wind knew how jealous I was , it would blow
harder, stronger, and more beautifully. I envied it as much as I admired it.
Now I am here, come and blow like
you always do, come I am here waiting for you on the peak, I can compete you.
Come .... I have learned your secrets.
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