As the caravan was slowly passing by
There was the sand, the desert and the sky
The wind putting some sand dunes in front of her
And paradoxically her view was no more blurred.
Sadness wasn’t only guest cuddling her naked soul
Sadness came to say good bye as the wind slowly blows
There was the desert only and yet she found herself there in the middle
There were no more questions, she was the missing nothing in the riddle.
The breading became calm, the mind empty, and it was quiet
It was the last battle and the end of the daily riot
And yet it is only the art of letting go
The art of loving in the way wind effortlessly blows.