The Breeze

Today, after yoga, before the house with the rose,
a breeze crept along my side and said,
"I am not the rose,
but I can bring it to you cupped in my hands.
I am not the rain,
but I can whisper secrets about it into your ear.
I am not the sounds of this city,
but they come with me and ask me
please
to lay them at your feet."
The breeze asked nothing of me,
and we walked together.