The Wind
Today the wind is quiet
Not speaking, nor whispering.
Yet it waits.
It waits and it watches
Not speaking, nor whispering.
Soon it will waken and reach
With a groan and a hiss it will reach
And it will speak
But not today
Today it is quiet.
Have I heard it?
Yes. It has spoken to me.
It called and it cried and then it howled, as if …
As if it were angry, annoyed
that I might not listen
But I listened.
And I felt and I witnessed.
Felt its icy grasp around my bones,
punishing them.
Witnessed it take the shine from the moon as it threw battered clouds across her face.
And I was held, with no escape.
I have seen trees bend as if in worship to it
Seen man and beast alike, run from it
Hoping – praying – that its anger would cease.
But …
Today the wind is quiet
Not speaking nor whispering
But it will come my friend.
It will come!
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