Follow her whispers

The air, she is
a fickle sprite.

Forever moving, shifting, embracing
her own unfolding story.

Unable to be swayed, grasped, guided
by other than her own song.

Her love will engulf you, wholly.
But her invitations will disappear as
quickly as they came.

Unattached. Free.
She slips away unseen.

Wisps passing over moonlight.
Vibrating leaves.
The flutter of butterfly wings.
Dancing reeds.

Follow her whispers
before they fade among the trees.