The sound of oranges falling in the night

First non-blog post, just something and somewhere to write something.

Where does the wind blow us?
Sometimes we anchor ourselves
not from necessity, not from desire
merely from comfort. a place that
makes no sense, and perfect sense.
Let go! and let the wind blow.

Swans swimming in a dark pond,
ripples that emanate from their soft paddling,
their protective personality, hides a soft mystique.
does the wind blow them too?
if so, what do they do when the breeze quickens
do they stay, or do they go?

When the waves roll in and the sand flows out,
your footsteps are gone, completely erased.
forgotten? well that's a different question.
Did you take the steps expected, or those wanted?
either way, no one will ever be able to forget
the sound of oranges falling in the night.

Just flowed, no editing, no revision, are they separate or are they related? Either way...


... enjoy? jaja.

Warned you, it's just my words.