The wind, the wind for which the city was named,
It traveled around me,
The wind rushing to the waves of Lake Michigan,
The closest thing I have ever seen to an ocean.

Crystal blue,
The lake, it was crystal blue,
The lake and the sky,
Crystal blue everywhere around me,
Except the buildings.
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The buildings stood tall all around me,
They are a forest with people instead of birds,
They are sentinels guarding the wind’s freedom.

They say that wind is the element of freedom
that the wind goes wherever it wants and will not cease,
The wind works its way through the city,
Up and down the streets the wind blows to the lake
until it meets up along the canals that run through the city,
Rush hour,
GO GO GO!
The wind races to the beach and with it comes the power of freedom,

Freedom, Wind, and the bridge I stand on,
They all are existing in a single place,
A single city of wind.

My scarf billows in the freedom wind,
Its grey coloring matching that of the bridge
and its motions matching the wind’s.

I feel my soul billowing in the wind too,
I feel carefree and the cool April air flows around me,
Its touch can calm the hottest of fires.
Its cool touch can calm the inferno within anyone’s soul.

Souls,
I wonder if souls dance like this,
If they dance under the crystal blue sky,
Do souls billow in the wind?
Are they free like the wind?
Do they run like the wind?

It does not matter right now
because here I am,
In the city wind,
and my soul dances under the crystal blue sky,
Finally, at home.