Composed more or less in realtime while sitting in a garden

The wind blows today.
It will go away
In time leaving me refreshed,
Yet my soul can not for long rest.

Children lark about
And shout.
I doubt
My brain
Which runs like an express train
Will
For long be still.

Listening to the leaves
I perceive
A need to write.
There is delight, in the wind chimes which on occasion sound,
Speaking of things more profound
Than I who am tied to this shifting ground.

The wind has dropped now
And I wonder how
My poem will be understood
By those who would
Try
To...