wind – Rivers Renewed

The Wind I Know

The wind I know never leaves this Earth, moving

teaching the mighty oaks to bend, or caressing

the most gentle of all flowers, once

I saw the mountain wind make a man cry,

with his prayers carried throughout the Earth

his broken heart beginning to mend

the wind announced his need in Singapore

and rain fell washing him,

the wind can do all that,

have you seen the wind move?

Whispers of the Winter Wind

In the whispers of the winter wind, an early snowfall in the night,

our blue dawn revealing pine trees

embracing the beauty.

Note: I’ve been dreaming about snow lately.

Wind Poems

And on that day I awakened to the wind declaring my spirit was not quite done yet,

and even in the light before the dawn, each heart is filled with poetry,

a love unimaginable.

And the pine trees swayed

with amen.

As Wind Song Moves Through the Pine Trees

As wind song moves through the pine trees, I can hear hawk wings descending

out of the clouds, and I finally let go of those phrases

I carried as a prayer, shifting and shaping them,

will it be a poem?

as another feather drifts,

to the Earth

from the blue sky.

Whispers Yet Remaining

Whispers yet remaining as snowdrifts shift, and maneuver

while water ripples

in her surrender.

Ocean Wind

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There are times when the wind from the ocean is malicious, yet on this day he noticed the wind was carrying a particulate peace from the depths,

moving beyond the weight and heaviness below the surface, instead moving determined, up and over,

towards the shore, and through the pines trees, winnowing. Finally swirling around his face, around his being,

whispering words, that lifted his spirit in an unknown language, sort of like music. So in a deep breath, he let it all go…..

How is it that the wind seeks us, until we are encouraged?

As the Wind Moves Over the Hawk’s Shoulder

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A solitary feather is lifted as the wind moves over the hawk’s shoulder.

Chipmunks are breathless as the mountains bask in the sunlight.

Yet the hawk turns his head, to listen to a murmuring sound close by.

A lone figure praying in the shadows, near the top of the mountain.

Peace is seldom easy, so the hawk kept silent, honoring his descendants, he turned away.

Weren’t humans descended from birds of prey?

Influenced by Native American stories of creation.

Autumn’s Surrender

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In the sacred song of autumn’s surrender

in the gentleness of leaves floating

drifting in the wind,

our poems turn upward

into the blue light

and the fury of snow.

The Legend of the Lone Wolf

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In the beginning of all things there was only the lone wolf, having been made by the moon and the sun.

He carried our world gently between his teeth, yet there were earthquakes and storms as he wandered our galaxy, running through stars.

He let our world go, setting us in place. And when the Earth settled he made humans from sticks and some mud.

At first the lone wolf was happy with humans, seeing us playing, enjoying the Earth,

but he saw our hearts turn to darkness some of us ripping the Earth and hurting each other.

He was sorry that he made humans.

He ran away lamenting, howling even.

To this day, if you listen closely

you can even hear him…..

in the wind.

Note: Influenced by Native American/First Nations stories

Whirlwinds

Grey Sky

As we search for a poem, bringing shape to our whirlwinds,

our ghosting words,

refining spinning

in a furnace tested by fire

becoming word art, work of art

lines launched

beyond the rubble

until we finally see the vision

and then,

we write it all down.

Note: Based on an earlier work.

Tag: wind