Travelogue: the wind commands

Can I tell you a secret in only a whisper,

and out here, we're safe, because the wind is a friend

and out here, the wind commands

the bowing trees

the sojourning clouds

the rustling seas of gold.

Could it be in this majestic land,

we are lost to all others,

we are known only to ourselves

and everything could fall away, 

everything that encumbers

becomes dust evacuated in a Northern wind.

And then, might we see

with eyes most clear

with hearts so bold

that which remains is true.

That we are both mountains

and blades of wheat.