THE WIND

THE WIND

I would like to describe the wind
But I can’t because I haven’t been
That far or that high
To know where it starts in the sky.
Describe the wind, I shouldn’t try,
But then, what makes the eagle fly?
Soaring high, over the canyon below
And makes the embers of my fire glow
Here, then gone, like it’s never been.
That’s why I want to describe the wind.
What so beautifully caresses a girl,
And as it leaves, messes a curl.
Fields of daisies, their heads all bowed,
Before the shadow of the racing cloud
The waves on the lake do a graceful dance
All because the wind came by chance
The willows bend, sway, and weep
And all you see are the backs of sheep
Many faces has the wind
And many voices that come within
For at times, it is just a breeze caught in a sail
And then with strength it grows into a gale
If you ever think that strength is wrong
Listen in the pines to its song...
I have a favorite windy place
Where it can dry the tears on my face.
Though I love it I must confess
I like it when it takes an occasional rest

© Prof. Don T. Nomuch 2006,