I do not yearn for the frenzied fire,
that sizzles, rages and burns.
Or bolts of lighting that streak in the sky,
scorching the air with their striking demand.
Nor do I wish for the unpredictable
excitement of color filled fireworks to light my nights
whistling, booming and crackling loud and bold.

No. I wish upon the twinkling night stars
that have steadily sung for eons,
the quiet, iridescent shine of the moon
that dependably follows her infallible cycle.
I yearn for those cooling, quite whispers of
the gentle wind, who though whimsical in her moods
is always there to breathe life into my lungs.


Give me those winds.