The Wind

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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