The Wind

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




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s