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The Wind

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It twists the Pine,
howls through
moves about serpentine...
elastic in it's design.
It conjurs the waves
to the sky,
ship wreck it craves...
to man's watery grave!
Dust Devil it transforms,
sculpting golden sand dunes.
stirs up storms...
upon land dried and deformed.
It too drifts by,
bumps the spring flowers awake.
guiding songs 'cross blue sky...
ready to cradle every sigh.
It pulls old memories apart,
putting us at ease so that
Congested conversations depart...
and leaves nothing but the heart.

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