In the Wind

Sometimes, I remember, and I want to weep. It hits me, harder than you know. But then again, I forget it so quickly and cannot account for these tears rolling down my face. I am left with a sense that it was beautiful, life, and hard too. There was so much pain, hurt, anger, but there was music, and striving, and something called purpose. Words fail me. There was this thing and it was fire; it burned you up, and you either became light or ash. That was one of the songs, Dust in the Wind. All we are is…