I love the wildness in the wind, buffeting
as it roars
through the pine trees,
threatening us with snowflakes swirling,
moving the branches of the oak trees
as if to say winter never left
us at all.
I simply smile remembering
the flowers, and the light rain
that washes us,
and the brightness
of the sun that embraces us,
the new life born again, after
the wildness in the wind.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies