Forcefully the wind blows through the trees
picking up stray things in its way.
Swirling them about in a spiral, up, up
and sometimes at me, but not often.
Then it is deceptively calm.
I walk away from my home,
but come back again,
to protect it.
The wind rises and ebbs,
rises and ebbs.
When will it stop?
I am holding my heart.
But the wind is ruthless
it takes it along,
In the whirlwind.
Then it is gone,
and I feel alone.
Why do I miss it,
when it blows everything about me?
I have no control...
with the wind.
More Thoughts on Wind
Why does the wind like me so much?
It seems to call me always,
seems to embrace me.
Why does it seem to need me,
calling my name, circling about,
desperate to keep me here?
Yet leaves me alone when I need a nice breeze,
when I need to hear the conversation that it carries.
Where is the warm breeze?
Happily playing elsewhere, talking to others.
I am left, alone,
waiting for when it will return.
The wind comes with many moods,
sometimes it seems to enjoy laughing through the hills.
Sometimes the wind plays with the tree sprites, and
sometimes they run away, afraid of all that blowing.
The wind is a part of me,
yet it dosen't recognize that I want the sun to shine?
I would talk to it, but my spirit speaks in gentle breezes.
Harsh blowing is difficult to deal with.
I know I am shutting it out,
I am trying to keep things from blowing about,
I am trying to capture some happiness and warmth.
Why does the wind do this to me?
It is calm now,
the wind has been calm.
Will it blow again?
Can I learn to live with the wind?