The wind flows in unseen shapes
scentless and colorless
faster through the houses
between bricks of cities
relying on tight spaces to sing
or to be noticed
but the wind is strong
crashing limbs together
forcing lift or
ripping patches from avenged abodes,
if the wind is manic
driving itself to attention.
Or the wind is gentle
tricking tingling senses
whispering kind hellos
to accompany passing time;
Or lifting wings to
drift in the lines of wind
tilting between the dome of sky
and freed from levels of solid earth,
wind floats as breeze
combing clouds and
tapping the ocean surface
where the miles of open play
wish joy in secret silence.
Or where oldest winds reside
atop the world in contempt glory
wind swirls straight through
mountains rocks and small leaves
the towering thrones for free air.
Instead where wind can race
rushes through tall grasses
or carry on near orange soil
to meet the sky
to meet the sky in all its excitement
plucking flowers from colorful plants
focused on the growth
and petals are gifts and confetti
for the wind
when it is least lonely as
the world waves in wind
branches, ocean, grasses
bend and bow
all see the wind
travelling through space
or sitting in air
atmosphere.
Free Write 