Simply the Wind
Simply the Wind
I.
Words cannot describe
the sound of movement of air
in large quantity.
I can hear the chimes
this musical aggression
a rise in heartbeat.
Or a chill light breeze
lightly touch exposed skin
a small twitch and sigh.
Children lean forward
as they walk to the bus stop
laughter lost in gust.
If the wind takes me
trying to start a whirlwind
I will stand tall.
II.
Changes in status
when high pressure moves to low
our air picks up speed.
Once felt the Chinook
winds that blow from the rockies
a powerful gale.
Some winds have been named
blow through the same plain yearly
the same winter lot.
Some wind is gruesome
when it can blow you away
from where you may live.
You cannot catch the wind
with a huge wind catching net
on your Saturday.
III.
You cannot lose the wind
when we live in constant blow
even if you run.
You cannot see wind
like the cotton of the clouds
or our expressions.
Maybe a wind rope
shared by a vast universe
a way up to stars.
Or vibrating strings
that keep our world in order
a constant movement.
IV.
The wind as spirits
spirits of our moments lost
flying like loose leaf.
Spirits as our ghosts
speaking in blustery voice
to make sense of loss.
A time for goodbye
to throw letters to the wind
deciphering blow.
To release ones grief
into early morning gale
never to return.
Lost like a balloon
a small forgotten trinket
a memory gone.
V.
A motivation
a sudden inspiration
these winds can strengthen.
A passionate strength
that can destroy and create
spirit as a force.
Back to the movement
of the branches of the trees
they sway in rhythm.
Large fields of blown wheat
become art on stretched canvas
movement of color.
Without an anchor
my world would simply take flight
to live in the air.
VI.
To find a shelter
from all these passionate words
where there is no peace.
From all directions
the force and noise of the world
within my eyesight.
As if a blender
all our differences would mix
made nonsensical.
When my wind chimes start
to play these dissonant chords
upon my country porch.
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- A Tree Trunk Seat - January 16, 2023
- The Green Maidens - January 8, 2023
Jamie, I have always been fascinated by the wind and the sound it makes. As a writer, poet, and photographer it has been a subject of mine for as long as I can remember. It is difficult to write about the wind and do justice to it and even harder to photograph it as well. You have done what most cannot and capture the essence of the subject with your words. Very much enjoyed.
Loved this. What else can I say, your poem simply blew me away.
Wonderful Haiku, Jamie. I love to listen to the wind at night, when it ruffles leaves and whistle through the window I leave open about an inch, it lulls me to sleep. Thank you for writing and sharing your thoughts on the wind. I love this piece. Well done.
One thing that I think of when observing the wind , every single tree within the grasp of the front is moving just as the one I am watching . Miles and miles of trees , each limb , each and every leave , the swaying branches , the swaying of life …….Just a thought !
Now you’ve got me thinking , beautiful words Jamie !
I love the wind Jamie, to just look out the window and see the trees swaying or feel the breeze’s soothing coolness on sweaty skin on a hot day..wonderful. A great collection of work.
Thanks for stopping by and leaving wonderful comments. I was thrilled to read how much you enjoyed this poem it was fun to write. Jamie