Asking

I called out and waited for a reply.
I simply had to ask why.
Do you always fly,
out of reach,
high? Silently, I waited for something to come
But the wind began to hum.
Filling my mind and
making me
numb. Being frozen I think a third request,
In the hopes to warm my head and the rest.
Asking how I got into this mess,
which leads me to
jest. In what I see in this desperate search for me,
I am where I am as no one else can be.
Yet when I set forth for thee
I get lost in what
 

I see. My final call I cast on the wind to you.
Hoping the singing air knew.
That what I ask I never knew.
Which was very little of me,
and even less of you.
A long time I waited for a sign.
In all I asked I hoped to find,
a bit of myself, a design,
something to call
mine.
Finally across the cool night I heard you.
Calling to me the only way you knew.
Echoing sharply through,
the humming air asking, Who.

©WRM