The Wind

The wind cuts through my jacket like a knife, as if I stood naked,
And it tries to be a gentle breeze, I know – I feel the wind’s love
As it whistles to caress my hair, my face, my heart
Like a giant stepping softly on an eggshell, with the best intent
It is but my fear of the past and the memories of falling
That makes me feel its kindness as though a sandstorm
Ground away the layers of my skin and left me raw
In the glare of the sunlight off the sea, off the bright hot sea.
I feel her breath, the wind’s breath, through the protective layers
As if they had vanished, like a dandelion puff, blown far away
But I cannot hear her voice, the wind’s voice, the music,
The words, and I think if only I could master that language,
The wind’s tongue, wordless and wild, I would know
And in the knowing would fear no more
But would trust the wind in my hair, in my sails, in my breath
As it blows me across the sea, across the bright hot sea.



One response to “The Wind

  1. Wow. I felt every word choice, every beautiful note of this poem/song. Lovely, simply lovely.

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