Smoke.

the smoke dancing with the wind
reminds me to go slow
slow, racing heart
and we can carry on
the breathing heavily will only make time a burden
until the day of sun inside
until the clouds takes over the sky
and it is my time to dance with the wind
like smoke
slowly fading away
no dread deep rooted
I will come back again
it is cyclic
and death is just transmutation
like the waxing moon
I will come back renewed.