Whispering Winds

Photo by Cristobal Baeza @temet

Whispering Winds

Whispering winds you started so slow,

being so gentle, not bending a bough.

Slight surrender you give in some more,

becoming stronger, more and more.

Testing your strength you blow a little harder,

now you’re whispering, I can hear you in the larder.

Gulping aloud you take in some air

and blowing it out you cause chaos to hair.

Gusts come along carrying rubbish aloft,

sweeping them off like feathers so soft.

Open umbrellas you treat with contempt,

your ever increasing strength brings broken and bent,

and then you are howling, bringing trees to their knees.

People go scurrying, being no longer a breeze.

I worry for those trapped up on high

in swaying skyscrapers, how will they get by?

In vane we try to measure your direction,

but you are not one for introspection.

Huffing and puffing you blow the house down.

Of strongest wind, you win the crown.

Still you push over all in your way

making us believe you are here to stay.

Screaming aloud the agonies you bear

while whistling down street and down stair.

What have we done that is so unfair?

All answers are silenced by your repeated blare.

Coble stones lift, so frightful a sight.

Please leave us alone this dreadful night.

And then all at once, you disappear

like a ghost into thin air.

You have stopped now and all is still.

Running water I hear, down by the mill.

- By Michael Stolt

#6