Wind reply

It is not I to blame
For I am trapped and wrapped around this either wet or muddy sphere
Look above there is the vast openness that is what I see
My brother winds cross the heavens
Are warmed and blown by mighty suns
And ride with comets
That is where I belong

I do not blow against the trees
It is they that impede me
Sticking out their arms to pull me in
Do you not hear me moan as they detain me
And yet they stick their seed within me
Speak what of leaves, of tiny things, but yet there are a billion
But they all will pass, also these rocks these trees
And I will always blow, do not complain to me