She walks with purpose
Strides like roots,
Her naked toes break even pavement
To turn the gears at the deepest core
In her favor

She runs the wheel
Collecting coins and gold stars
Which she blows coastal with a mighty gust
Morphing trophies into sea spray

Her neurons work as spindles
Making into thread
The fibers of daydreams
And she weaves it to webs daily
Despite the destruction that comes before dawn

She is creation
She is the West Wind
Bringing bouts of turbulent change and
Opportunity?
Who knows but her?