On the Palmetto coast were,  

A tree swaying in the eternal breeze,  

A breeze from which hath no home,   

A lonely horseman, galloping alone,   

Allured by such gravest majesty,  

From what seems an invisible god,  

A push and a shove of its own,   

A sensation felt upon the skin,  

A feeling felt deep within,  

From what seems implausible,   

An unseen moves the seen,  

Accompanied by an unknown home,  

Acting, in a mere mortal world,  

On such, the horseman believed, the wind was unreal.