Windwalker Alchemy

Like wispy ghost moaning low
Moving cross the surging sands.
Secrets whispered sighing flows
In swirling tones of flight's expanse.

Gifts of wisdom speak in verse
From the immortals sacred songs.
Eons of gathered stoic worst
Woven tales in micro bursts.

In dust devil spin a specter rises
Curling round in fragments climb.
Foretelling truths it knows advises
Of life's mysteries from ancient times.

Windwalker spirits impart assail
Though my body stands arrested.
These damaging claws from my entrails.
From many troubles I've ingested.

By Suseann