Blown

Something new stirs in the air on the breeze
Blowing through, tipping over our presupposed
Notions of what should be, knocking it down 
With one strong gust and we are standing 
In the wake of feeling it blow over us, do we tidy
Up, put it right back on its original place, there
Ordered and ignoring its origin and path, saying 
It is gone and will not happen again, or do we let
It lie and wonder how we were so enchanted
By its masked beauty realizing the illusion of what
It was and let it go, reordering all the places
Oh wind of life blow through and ignite in us 
Something more true