The Wind

From heaven and hell

comes the Wind

like whispered secrets

from seraphim

or lyrics sung

as a sacred hymn

Or dreams

slipping past

on a flighty whim

Warm

and soft and meditating

Cold

and hard and calculating

A mysterious force

With endless tales

Strong enough

to fill tall sails

and soft enough

to find the nooks and crannies

and gently brush your face

Her breath slips in

and swirls around

then runs away again

Passing by

with twist and turns

touching all

along the way

Days turn into nights

and her journey lingers on

I sometimes wonder

if she understands

the beauty

of her song

With gusts beneath

the flailing wings

and dreams upon the waves

she pushes and pulls

and tosses about

to crucify

or

to save

Through windows open

she reaches in

to caress

and stroke

and pierce

With a childlike laugh

and a warriors heart

laughing

crying

fierce

And why does she sing

with her smile askew

through heavens black

and skies so blue

to a world of lies

and hearts so true

Because

She’s the Wind

What else would She do