I feel the breeze blow over me,
I speak not of wind,
Not the wind as we have known it,
In the Winter,
In the Storm.
I feel now the breeze of time,
I speak of its etching passions,
Of ever changing mystical motion,
in Directions,
as yet untold.
It blows me across these planes,
from young boy to sapling tree,
surely,
soon to glowing ember,
I hear it speak of blowing out the wick.
And then,
dispersing my memory,
unrelenting,
into illuminated dark space itself,
where alone the solar winds blow.
another wave washed over me
fully I feel
foam and blue and wonder
Time can’t see itself, else it might stop a moment and consider
what lies behind and what lies ahead.
I changed from plain to plane whilt both work – from Latin planum – neuter of planus, flat surface. But plane can be defined and used as a level of existence – ‘She lives in a world plane’ etc, and the X-Y plane fits nicely as well.
oh and just fyi:
The solar wind is a stream of charged particles released from the upper atmosphere of the Sun, called the corona. This plasma mostly consists of electrons, protons and alpha particles with kinetic energy between 0.5 and 10 keV. The composition of the solar wind plasma also includes a mixture of materials found in the solar plasma … from Wikipedia