Submitted by The Vita Brevis Team!
There is a headwind that always blows
Steady, hard, solemn, and fallow
Void of that whistle the beach breeze knows
Void of that ice the blizzard throws.
It has no source that we can glean
Yet always are we in its stream
Void of the ebb the ocean tows
Void of the spring harpist’s notes
It is hidden though, not felt or seen.
Until you sit one day and think
Of all we’ve built and all we’ve been
Of all of life’s absurdity.
And then you feel that headwind gust,
And realize all your life you’ve trudged
Through a hard and solemn wind
With the nimble gait of ignorance.