Flowing

The wind is pulling at me

When I listen

When I stop to feel

But I spend most moments

Striving against it

Leaning in to it

Stubborn to push my will

Against its

Implacable

Force

The headaches come

A mace to my brain

But I ignore them and

Push on

The tension

Hardens my shoulders

And pinches at my back

But I set my chin

And push until I cannot push more

Only then

When I am out of my own steam

When I have been overcome

And think it is all over

Do I lie in the sand

Defeated

Quiet enough to listen

To the tiniest of voices

Still enough to feel

The softest of breezes

Only then do I realize

I was resisting the flow

Of the world

Of my life

Of the divine

And missing the path

Of my own destiny.