wind
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Even a tree
must struggle to survive,
tossed and torn
in the wind and rain,
yet it grows stronger
and begins to thrive,
becoming greener
for all its pain.
Susan J.
When Winter winds begin to whirl around
and whisper through my long and lonely days,
I’ll light the fire and stoke it with a poem
and hope I find some comfort in a phrase.
February Waltz
A lone Maple leaf
Hung to the tree
all Winter through
snow, rain and wind.
Then one morning
She let go and floated
Slowly as she could
Across the houses
Parfois, oui parfois, c’est bon d’oublier
C’est bon d’ignorer hier et le passé
Pour aller vaillamment de l’avant
Pour continuer vachement avec le vent.
I waited for you in the hallway
But I did not hear your voice
I waited for your call in the night
But my phone did not stir
I waited for your love
But it would never be mine
Reaching down from grey forming cloudsa rumbling locomotive’s charging soundthe vortex spins its mighty handsas it bounces and vacuums across living landdestroying every time it touches down
Frost encumbered
yet sitting in the sun
the green grass glows.
Beautiful to the world
but look inside,
its heart froze.
The wind reminds me of something else, on its’ way.
It pushes like the oceans’ flow. Tells us where to go.
In time with the moon and orbit, I know. It comes so.
birdsong melodiesgentle wind caressing leaves~ pleasing perfect pitch.
.© 2020 Mark Toney. All rights reserved..Original artwork by Jon McCormack
I hope the wind in your hair makes you always feel free. I hope the leaves in the trees tell you all that you need. I hope the waves push you forward so you don't sink in the sand, but if you start to fall back then just reach out your hand.
Words wander around wildly.
Worldwide the words fly.
The words wander wonderlessly.
Wonderfully waiting until
La luna llena cae del cielo
Con una luz intensa de relampago
Pero sin sonido alguno
Libre de las cadenas de la gravedad
Cae
Y desaparece en la oscuridad
La osuridad completa
Gentle breezes calling out to me like Sirens,
Intimidating storms shouting its melody at me, too,
The cyclone of words are flying,
Coming together where the hurricane's eye is due.
Nature is my home,
it inspires me to be who I am
the outdoors is a stress reliever, a safe place.
No drama. No gossip. Just peace
Nature is a place where you are persuaded by your own thought
The star shine is bright, blinding
sparkling blue and red and orange and yellow
so she has to squint.
The contrast of light against the
total black of the night sky
is nearly unbearable.
Teetering on the edge, knuckles white
Mind racing, why am I here? spiraling
What can I hold? Or what can hold me?
How can it all somehow turn out right?
Splish
Water laps over my hiking boots
As I ford my way upstream a
Wild highland river
The wind gusts with an exciting promise
Of grandeur just uphill.
Breath heavy
Heart light
I love to watch you wind,
as you sway the trees and blow
across the fields in a gentle breeze,
but I wonder where you go.
You disappear sometimes
in a mischievous sort of way
Ode To the Wind
I love to watch you wind,
as you sway the trees and blow
across the fields in a gentle breeze,
but I wonder where you go.
You disappear sometimes
Floating in the silver breeze.
A sherbet sky glistened upon her wings
A fairy lass so small and sweet floats without a cease
Bending grass and trees
Awakening flowers from the freeze
Waves crash gently upon the shore as the tide roles in-n-out. A semi powerful breeze cools the air
Standing 4,081ft up, I open my eyes to a 360° view of the Green Mountains. Wind rustling the leaves of the trees.
Goodbye and thank you to the Ocean
Thank you for the memories
The nights of walking along the beach
The waves as they crashed at our feet
Thanks for the breeze blowing wind through our hair
Do you hear the storm coming?
feel the thunder shaking the ground?
can you see the lightning in the distance?
feel the wind weaving through your clothes?
can you hear the rain getting closer and louder and heavier?
25 April 2019 4:15 Pm
Oh traveling wind where have you come from
Where will you be when the day is done
What have you seen, what stories would you tell
If only you could stop and sit for a spell
The clock ticks down the day,
How much longer I have to wait,
For the revolving door to make its final spin.
Around it goes in a shadowy blur,
Its magnificent speed is hard to ignore.
Happy changes for ours to foray, that theirs were oceanand of black God, so could you know Ocean god was thisogod, or primal bei is hei. Thes lors, ast ou, ocean wasblack and fear, could know you in? No. But this deep could
Sitting along the waters edge the wind flows gently across the water stirring the current slightly. Rocks and earth bellow the water, as the water glides downstream it eases the senses to a place of calm.
the winds blow through the leaves of the trees
as words drift from ears to ears
of those who want to hear
Creator speaks in many voices
through many people
selectively we chose
Words like water,
wittling mountains into mines,
carving cathedrals into canyons.
Epitaph like earth,
steadfast in resolve,
yet constantly changing.
Fierce like fire,
i blind those that blaspheme my
omnipresent and invisible nature.
to my shoving nudges
you deny and you tear
and shield your eyes from
Sends shivers down your spine
Gives you the chills
Freezes you to the bone
Raises your hairs
Yet it’s oh so kind
It comforts us
Wind, to me sing
Your lullaby,
Your comforting tone of peace.
I am not,
Could not be, alone
Amongst the presence of the breeze.
Tell me secrets,
Fear not, song,
The trees they sway.
The wind convey,
Their branches all a ’swinging.
The breeze can whisper,
Make you shiver,
On feathery wisps a ’winging.
The wind grows louder,
Winding Strands of silken air,
Rushing 'round my clothes and hair,
Round and round the Earth they fly,
Climbing high without a care.
The angry skies on a sleepless night,
Rolling thunder, flashes of light,
A tireless battle midst roiling clouds.
A quick parry, a sudden thrust,
Their booming voices,
Mother, she is light.
She bounces off tin-foil lakes, soothing tides.
She warms the back of my eyes every dawn.
She is a sunspot amongst freckles and stars.
She lets me look on beauty.
The clouds start moving in,
obscuring the midday sky.
They layer upon one another,
blocking out all available sunshine.
The wind picks up,
rushing through the trees.
Oh how the winds have changed
all wind blows with the curviture of the earth
but not all whip and burst in the same directions
Some winds dash throgh the trees and encourage leaves to dance
The way that the sun sets and the sky looks as if it’s on fire,
Sitting on the edge looking down endless rows of trees and wanting to be even higher,
A melody played on the wind
Tangles itself amongst the smoke
Air crisp with cedar pine
Still cold while the sun has broke
A gentle lull of a new day
Rousing all from slumbers full
Hushed are the mornings,
not one chore yet to do.
The wind wafts over from my open window, cool and light.
The solid hardwood on my bare feet,
The axis of the world spins,
and with that goes the heat of the summer.
My time of happiness has finally come.
Trees begin to shed their coats,
and with that animals grow new ones.
Swimming through air
Floating then plunging
Through depths
Gliding over
Whispy vessels afloat
On nothingness
Effortless
I want the shoreline,
the foamy white waves
colliding
into rock
like soldiers sparring in battle;
the horizon brushed
with soft strokes
of lavender, rose pink and azure;
the low-toned
Silhouetted trees
Line dusked beach skies,
As subtle breeze
Blows,
All is calm,
Earth sighs.
Relief only comes during the late hours of sunset,
When the cool wind finally arrives
Just to curl around your legs,
Sighing with content, just feeling this moment of peace
One still night, alone was I,
As mind and soul raced wind and time.
To space, they spread and quickly fell,
Obeying laws against their will.
I thought of all the days gone past,
I weave, thrive and twist in the tunnel of wind
Thrashing me forward, he winds me up as a toy
Unbounded, he twists me still and steals my jacket
In this tunnel of wind I stand, sit and wretch
Shivers, up and down your back
Such a gaze makes your mind go slack
The bitter cold of catching that one's eye
Worse than an outright lie
It's just the wind
It's not like you have sinned
I envy the wind,Oh I envy the wind.
I envy the soft breeze of the wind,Its tender hold caresses your skin,While I cannot, I am not the wind,I envy the wind.
Warm Fire, Dark atmosphere, Cold Wind
Bright Flames. Amber Logs, Cold Wind
Flickering Blaze, Inviting Company, Cold Wind
Warm Smiles. Dark Faces, Cold Wind
Years has is it become
Seeing eye to eye
But very words
Gave thrills and shrills
To both, separated
By approx. of 618.6 km
And taking a 8 hour long travel
Reaching by 7 in the morn
I adore the wind;
It’s comfort over rules every
And any single thought I have had.
Shall the gust turn strong
Or the movements go astray
It is here to accompany me
Even if I’m not here stay.
I catch you summer breeze and suddenly time stops,
A moment of appreciation sets in.
It seems you wait until I have forgotten your cool touch.
I can't help but feel a smile begin.
We all say Emily Dickinson in our sleep
And watch Van Gogh as we eat,
Upon a mid-summer afternoon
The curtains find release
Dancing with the wind
Fluttering with the breeze
Silent
The wind blows with no purpose.
It feels nice, and
makes the day more bearable.
Although it seems
to blow hard,
Although it moves
my shirt & paper.
it does not care.
It blows because
it should.
Rippling through my tresses
Lifting both my soul and my hemline
The wind soars through me
On the swings
Flying up to the clouds
Drifting back down again and again
The wind is here for me
I am awoken, not by sounds.
The sun egging me on with its rays to arise.
Birds conversing, cheerful small talk.
Inviting me to join the world outside.
The breeze, a mornings greeting.
The rain pounds down
Shifting
Dancing through the air
Without a care in the world
And meeting the ground
In the harmonious union
Known as mud
The wind howls
Jealous of the rain
Oh, the saccharine exhale of the skies
Breaking through the denseness of stagnant air
Lifting up spirits and drowning out destitute cries
Claiming the heavens as her lair
Reigns the frivolous delight known as wind
At my door
It comes in without permission
It rushes through the open cracks
Directs itself without a vision
In my kitchen
It sneaks in through my broken window
The perfect lover is the wind.
A warm breeze to brush away the cold.
A cool breeze to calm the raging heart.
A strong wind to push you back when you’ve gone too far
My eyes keep burning
from what seems like one hundred hours
of staring into a dry wind.
That wind seems determined
to send my retinas into a drought.
It hurts to close them.
whispering
whispering throught the trees
telling secrets
telling lies
and
tall tales too
through the tall grass
and where the urban street meets the meadow
where the wild becomes tame
The Wind leads through the woods
the forest is silent,
over the hills comes the glorious sun rise
Music spreads through the air
the heart is consumed with love
Could I really be heard?
I am seventeen year old young lady, Sierra
I’ve been to ten different schools, Nisqually
to Ridge, on to college and back here.
I am a wind.
I am the air rushing through the leaves,
Happy and energetic,
Flying and free.
Sometimes my speed picks up.
I get angry. I run from my problems.
I know I can be too much sometimes.
I have always been one to hide from the world. Never been a popular girl, I would hide myself from the world in my room. Behind the door I would lay in bed with the lights off, turn on a tune, and slowly let my thoughts carry me away.
Through beams of wood, light reaches for silver souls afloat.
A single breeze, a reverberation from the other layer of time,
Air dancing to the melody of ghosts across skin,
Just brushing the nerves, barely greeting,
When I speak of love I aim my voiceto my parents who brought me hereand taught me how to deal with the cruelties of the world,my freshman year english teacher who cared even after I left
Waiting for a gentle push
In a direction I do not know
Surrounding everything
But nothing
Many nights I lie awake thinking of what to be
until the thunder of the dream carries me to sleep
howl Howl the wind blows fierce
with its chill, me it pierced
gentle gentle night has gone
Like the hands on a clock
…move
Like the wind in September
…blows
My mind is systematic, yet
it can flow freely like a fluid dream
Like a bowl of dust
seeping into crisp air
I’m wrapped up tight within my sheets
Behind my curtains blows a gust
Up and down the lonely streets
Calm my heart, this I must
As the shadows find me still
In gentle dreams can I trust?
Change is the wind.
Bringing with it new things
Both tangible and intangible
Taking old things
Constantly happening
Giving
Destroying
Always happening
Change is the wind.
A breeze quietly stirs
it seems to have no direction
gnetly tossing my hair
sending a slight chill down my spine
my skin prickles up
wind rushes past me
then back to me again
***For those who have suffered through Natural Disasters***
Ocean of blue,
Blood of red.
Laying within
Mother Earth’s bosom
On grassy beds.
Music of birds
The Ways of Wind
An Original Poem By Catelin Haight
Wind is a wistful thing
Leaves and flowers ride its wings
Cradling in its arms a bird
Its gentle whispher barely heard
The Santa Ana winds roll in every year.
They go about making things dusty and dry.
They are strong and forceful but there's no need to fear.
They persuade the dust of the Earth to make you cry.
They scorned the sunlight
is what I was told.
They asked for shadow
Over gold.
But the sun could not help
But
To shine.
So they would run, and they would lock themselves inside.
The briny breathes of the Humber welcomed my parents to the its shores,
and left their cheeks flushed along with their hair unkempt.
The day is bright but there is no lightYou wonder how this could beIf you were meYou could surely seeThe beauty infront of me
Tonight I don't want to be seem by the moon. I prefer to wait until tomorrow and talk to the sun. Tonight I just want to by myself and count how often I have dressed up in gold to the rays of the sun and put on wine as perfume.
My family had moved to Kissimmee
To purchase a comfortable house.
I showed up to school sev'ral weeks before Yule
As a breeze wafted in from the South.
“Good morning,” the teacher exhorted,
She gazed through the hazeof smoke thatperpetuallyescaped from her lips,And sipped her glass of wine,one of the last companionsshe could afford.And I sat here in my car,unable to tear my eyes
Bare Handed Catch
Water Splashing in my face,
Bouncing on the waves,
Going light speed behind a motor boat
Soaring like the eagle
Swish, Swish, splash, going side to side
He calls them all
Into The Throne Room
The Breezes, the Winds, the Whirlwinds
Ready they come
He tells them His plans
Sends them off
The Freezing Breeze
The wind moves at a slow paceCreating a whispering voice Talking to shadows as they creep Through the eerie and morose night.
Tales like foxtails pepper my mind
And I find that naked the wind hurts
But clothed not so much.
The wandering wind, a playful dog,/ Floats into the city, desperate for love./ Nudging people playfully, puffing, blowing lovingly,/ Would be satisfied with the slightest smile,/ But not even that is given./ They zip up their jackets and go on the
Your currents carry all different colors that nobody else can see but meThey blow the strongest on my worst daysWhen you're near me, I can feel youWhen you're nowhere in sight, I can still hear you speak
Perhaps the wind blows for a certain reason
Maybe the gusts have a destination in mind
A specific face to refresh
A particular arm to brush
(1) Wings that soar, (2) Wings colored with beauty, (3) Wings so delicate, so fragile. (4) Wind blows setting the wings off course, (5) The wings try to fight the wind, (6) But the gentle wings lose the bat
I’ve felt the wind as a solid wave,
Taking the oxygen she freely gave.
I’ve felt the wind soft as a caress,
Flipping and whipping my hair into a mess.
I’ve felt the wind, setting the chimes all a-jingling
What if wind
Isn’t wind?
It’s actually our ancestors
Whispering in
Like a breeze
Isn’t a breeze
It’s their calming voice
Guiding
The wind whips within
The windows, whining
To be free, falling, frozen
In time forever,
But it bows out because
Its blood is too thin
Or maybe much too thick
For this warm morning
When the wind blows
it takes with it what it wills
leaves
dirt
it kicks up scents that bring back good times
the smell of autumn leaves
throwing you into a world of reminiscence
A cold winter night
Oh such a beautiful sight
The gentle breeze
Yet you never freeze
Coldness against the cheek
Wet grass beneath the feet
Chills down the spine
In a straight line
Fingers reaching light
Bare trees left till Spring
Wake up from slumber
Leave us gray morning
Arise to warmth and shadows
Welcome again Spring
Thunder claps its own song,
Rain drops its own tune,
Wind whistles its own melody
and all that comes from me
is this poem
The sun it shines, regardless,
The grass it grows, oblivious,
The water it sits, fathomless.
The moon it reflects, lovingly,
The tree it stands, determinedly,
The sand it moves, impulsively.
(poems go here) I am the color green,I am the grass,I am the leaves in the trees,
I am the wind that blow's through the trees as i sing passing bye
every tree,
Fire to ashes and ashes reborn
a once strong flame flickers and flails
as the wind grows stable the embers grow frail
then all at once it begins to prevail
I remember the gently blowing wind in my youth that shook the trees. I remember the soft, gentle flower petals fall from the trees and land in my palm. The passing street cars zooming right on by.
The change it blows,
across the sky.
The wind it grows,
as seasons die.
Heralding might,
with each new dawn.
Winning the fight,
through guise of calm.
When you find yourself
sitting in the sun,
a light, unbothering wind upon your thoughts,
escaping into the air through your
contended expression,
I hear whispers... Whispers in the wind...
Echoing through my mind... Each time the sound is dimmed...
They have yet to be spoken and never will,
Nor written on paper, with pen,
or
quill
Bees are sitting
On the Wind
Drifting
Feeding
On the Wind
Bringing life to those once dead
Bees are searching
On the Wind
Stardust winded
Wishes dispersed throughout
You wait
The sacrificing pigeon;
as white as neon
She flies over our head
Builds the nest
For the progeny of Liberty
