I hear the distant sounds of bright
Machines of earthly hand
At all hours of the quiet night
My focus sounds demand

I wish for chirping crickets then
Instead of crashing things
For music made by careless men
Pales next to that of strings

There was a time I rode upon
A wind both fierce and strong
That carried me hither and yon
And forced a journey long

At first I asked for quiet, then
I asked to turn around
But winds do not listen to men
And ‘long Fate’s road they bound

So to horizons far I flew
E’er wondering where I’d wend
Unknowing what I’d travel through
Ere we reached journey’s end

At last when wind began to die
I looked around to see
That rivers, plains, and mountains high
That theretofore were spinning by
Without a hint to how or why
Had gone and transformed me