Wind speaks through longing and desolation
while the skies roars with thunderous intuition

The Divine leads the way toward the decent
through transcendence the void surrenders, magnificent

Moments turn to questions
weighed against the silence

Wisdom circles back in quiet lessons
where wishes fuse with value and honest hope

Time will speak the conclusion
and when divine power ripens in season

My soul'll evolves toward acceptance
wishing all my breath becomes celebration.

I'm by the sea late

at night, the winds need no sleep --


they're scanning my skin.

World, forget me
For I am just another dandelion
blown away too soon in a field,
before the children came to play
World, forget me
because I am just another cut,
from the blade of society
To linger, and to disappear
World, forget me
because the seas will continue
to crash against the sands
and the clouds will continue
to rain against the ground
The winds will forever continue to blow,
world forget me,
because I'm just a candle
in a world of wildfires
To be blown out
once it kept someone warm
World, forget me
because my silence will bring peace
and absence will bring
a warm embrace,
to sweep across the lands
World, forget me
because one more window broken
is just another replaced,
forget me because
my breath will save
the one who needs it more
the ones in the closets,
the ones in the seas,
the ones in space
who can't come down to earth
World, forget me
because I am just one to the world
and none to one
so forget me, because
one more gone
wouldn't make a difference
especially one
lacking
everything
needed

“Wind, the continuous movement of Air is the link between all realms & dimensions carrying every form of communication from musical quarks to the sounds of silence”. Poet

             <~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>

Wind, Angelic Air ! Beloved of my Sun sign
       I listen to bellows pounding sea rock boulders
circling my spine in sharp dagger kisses divine
I listen to you penetrating my marrow
     swirl icy chiming voice through mottled skin
pulling hair, ******* throat uncensored ….
my parched lips open as you rip dry logs
to hear red ants scattering into darkened holes
                   trolls vacantly watch wind arms across my shoulders
I hold dripping amber, as you raucous relay
      score, hungry vultures and swallows chorus adore
      I walk songs, you unbutton word flames refraining  
dead locusts fall in wind tone lyrics whirling

Beloved ! be still that I may touch your *****
feel cold notes ripple between your crescendos
     stroke your quavers, obedient to your baton
      soul bowing to your transmuting crotchets
all I hear as you settle into playful breezes
    a teasing drama complete, is “I Love You” !

is it because of
of how beautiful
daylight reflects off
the leaves
or how the winds
makes the branches
dance,
i know i have
a life to create,
id just rather sit
here all day
and watch
it go by

if the words were real
and leapt off the line?

because you're skilled, or
because you have nothing else?

if they only lied to save your feelings?

if all it took were imagination?

if light weighed more than a thousand bricks?

             Upon the pier, the wind and absence
             gazing out, darkening all into an empty
             canvas or pond, canvas or chasm, why not
             both or nothing but it's too cold to stand
    
             Even stars bend from pressing distance
             but eyes can capture what hands only touch

if he truly believed,
the waves would hunger yet

The breeze ran cold last night
Under raven duvet, memories went gray.
In empty hills where my desires lay;
Rain flooded my rationale insight.

I was cold even before the winds blew,
And rain came—an obligation too.

You arrived in my life like a summer’s rain,
Unexpected, unearned, but exactly what I needed.
A downpour filling the empty riverbeds of me,
Healing the cracked earth where love once tried to grow.
There I stood, arms wide open, letting you soak into my skin.
A feeling of unending, everlasting, love.

But the thing about rain,
It never asks where it is needed, it just falls.
I thought love was something to keep,
Something to hold in cupped hands…

I didn’t know it could be a season,
A passing storm that never stays.
Yet I thought, maybe,
Just maybe,
It was me.

The way my trees blew in the winds,
The way my roots stretched too far.
Were these the reasons that sent you drifting?
For your rain to fall on another land…

The thought of you still pains me,
The rain that once was still remains deep within the wells of me.
But as years pass on,
I still stand.
Greener than before,
Grateful for what once was,
Hopeful for another rain to fall

What does wind think of the camp on North 7th as it moves
under the overpass- bright blue nylon riffled,

work shirts on a rope, the entry flap breathing,
an old man’s head bent over chessboard, a rook tipping over?

What does wind know? Easy to say - nothing,
to say it knows nothing sweeping the day’s trash

down the avenue. The crawl says: fires in the West;
men with AR-15s; a mother and child face-down in the river;

children in cages, says the rise of this, the fall of that.
We say the wind knows nothing as it drives fire like a blowtorch

across the land. We blame the grid - the lineman, the line -
though we know better. We say the rain inside the wind

knows nothing, as mud swallows houses, houses fall to sea,
floods push through cities, the ocean takes back land.

We say wind and rain know nothing. We say there’s nothing
to do. The wind tussles our hair and goes on.

A tarp snaps. A rook tips. The old man uprights it.
The wind takes its turn.

There's a compass rose

in the sand, raise your finger:


what wind is blowing?