Something Different

Here I stand at the crossroads
I can see the four winds
The wind of the north, bringing a chill on it's breath
The wind of the east, with the stories of the travelers
The wind of the south, with a warm and pleasant smell
And the wind of the west, with rumors of things to come
The winds from the four corners, they meet here
Speak to each other
They do not speak to me
I am just the wanderer, they think
I have no need for the voices of the winds
Foolish thoughts
I am a wander, yes, but where I go
Light follows
I carry color to people whose worlds are grey
I carry vibrance to the towns that lie in obscurity
I go, and brilliance follows, but the winds do not know
So I stand ignored
I, who called them here
In the end they part ways, with no notice of me
I still stand, at a loss
But I must go still
Carry the stories forth
Just without the ones from the wind