Wind Therapy

I could use some wind therapy right now. Just me on my motorcycle, freedom my vow. The endless open road stretching far and wide, a path to anywhere, with no need to hide.

In this prison cell, where shadows creep, I dream of the open road, of a journey deep. The roar of the engine, the thrill of the ride, a taste of freedom I’ve been denied.

Wind in my face, the horizon my guide, no walls, no bars, no need to confide. Just me and the road, in perfect harmony. An escape from this cage, a promise to be free.

The sun on my back, the wind in my hair, the miles unrolling, with nary care. I crave the open spaces, the sky so vast, a future unwritten, unshackled by the past.

In my cell, I imagine the rush, the speed, the freedom, the quiet hush. Of tires on asphalt, a symphony of flight. The endless journey through day and night.

I could use some wind therapy to heal my soul. To break these chains, to make me whole. To ride away from the pain and the fear. To a place where freedom is crystal clear.

So I wait for the day I’ll ride once more. Beyond these bars, through an open door. With dreams of the road, where my spirit can soar, in the embrace of the wind, forevermore.