Go
This is no womb
And you are
no cherished issue
Your only future lies
out there
To join your brethren
the Sirocco, the Pampero
and the great Typhoon
Be under no illusion
You were never welcome here
And your continued presence
will not long be tolerated
Yet even in your going you must
show caution
For in this crowded city there are some
who would resent your passing
Like thoughtful Telemachus you must
leave quietly!
You have the power
to fuel a conflagration
Yet, I ask you: let go completely
No petty lingering whines
No thundering explosion
You need not make a scene
Hot air is quickly gone
But you have the pneuma
the destiny
if you will only grasp it
to reach the highest heavens
Here in this tense confinement
they show you nothing but contempt
Look at their wrinkled noses
when they notice
just a hint of your presence.
Go
Speed on to distant altitudes
For in swift currents
you can at last be one
with the very furies of the skies.
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