An Abandoned Forest

"Why are you here?" - asks the rain.
"Whom are you waiting for?" - asks the cold wind.

I ask the rain and the wind, if they bring news.
They do not speak, and ruffle the leaves of the trees nearby.
What would they know, they are only the rain and the wind.

I spread my arms and feel the wind through my fingers
and I catch the rain with the palm of my hand.
They go along their way - and I do not.

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Daedalan, in the year 312 AF.