Covenant

I filtered the wind to sense the colours of the air
Projecting the graphs describing past and future
The shapes of the living and calamity they bear
Clairvoyance became a word far too weak
Cynicism, awareness interlaced into grace
A beauty from which my valedictory springs
Forgive what seems sinister and crude to face
Forgive my conviction to save these skies
The wind of the north seems pleasant and lush
Compared to the chill in my eyes at the time
The wind of the north obey none but me