Whirling and spinning in your costume of fire
your dancers, dancing to their own music,
making magic in the air.
You wrap them around me and i watch them rise and fall.
I try to reach out grab one and make it my own puppet to play
but you have your own game…
It falls out of reach and somersaults over the ground,
gathering more dancers to join its march,
to feel its rhythm and beat.
I run after them, falling for the trick
as they lead me further and further from the path i was travelling,
yet i cannot tear my eyes away from their reds and golds.
I stick my hand up high to the sky to try capture its sway
but i realise this was not a game i should have played
for the pull was too strong and the beat too cold.
It lifted my hood and blew up my hair,
and whistled round my ears,
chilling any skin that was bare.
It poured in through my jumper, in and out its holes,
deafening me with its roar and force
that i was oblivious to a minute ago.
I ran back but the dancers had covered my tracks
and suddenly i felt lost and foolish,
for falling for the wind’s game of catch.
the wind is howling outside in the poplars near my window. Somehow the sound is comforting but maybe that is because i’m warm and snug in my bed, not outside, playing a foolish game of catch.
She said you’d given up,
Your folks told me you should be left alone,
On a mountain top knocking the aeroplanes down with stones.
Do the whirlwind and carry the hope that stings all night long,
Don’t abandon him ‘cause he quivers when he hears your song,
Believe me, it’s safe to see.
At least be confused about right and wrong,
Plan to settle down,
Over the moon under the sun.
Do the whirlwind and shotgun the seat that beats that beats
Hanging on to the one you love
To keep keepin’, sleepin’, dreamin’ on.
Folks given up under the quivers and lines,
You do the whirlwind,
Get a handle of yourself, son. Architecture in Helsinki
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