I see her,

leaves dancing down from the trees,

clouds drifting above the mountain trail,

I hear her,

birdsong tingling in my ears,

the murmur of a stream by the rocks.

I feel her,

the soft pat she leaves on my skin,

a coolness trickling through my body.

She was with me,

guiding each step,

as I hiked through stone and sky.

When the wind came,

time unraveled,

my eyes blurred with the light.

It was the end of the school year，

I watched my friends in their graduation gowns,

eyes twinkled as they waved goodbye.

The wind swept across the lawn,

lifting petals, scattering the sky,

parting people, carrying the time.

Though she takes time in her arms,

she always brings new life, 

back in bloom.

Perhaps when she kisses my cheek again,

and I feel the wind once more,

I will have quietly grown.

Yet, I would still be me,

feeling that wind, 

full and free.

I stepped off that mountain path,

the hike had ended.

I patted the dust from my pants.

Looking up,

ahead was the vast, 

blue sky.

A gust of wind passed by. 

It guided me 

out of the shadows, into the light.