By J Ann Crowder

Ah, a transient, elusive wind—moving where he must
 
Oh, how I wonder from whence and where he goes—a force of intangible breath
 
Warm
Hot
Cold
Damp
 
A gentle, giant spirit—whispering only truth to my ears' delight
 
I cannot tame, break, or seize him
 
I move through him as he moves through me—like drinking water of springs into my being
 
He is my chest heaving light and life
 
He is taller than clouds and deeper than my soul—keen and wise
 
Betimes, he is gentle and breezy
 
Oft times, a gale force—wild, fresh, and penetrating
 
He is aether—sculptor of all existence
 
Fairies drift upon his blow—ever following tides of secrets
 
Alas, he resides within the catacombs of my constructive, living tomb
 
Sometimes tumultuous and squally
 
Mostly soft and tender—wrapping my infinite world into his magic touch

Written August 26th, 2016.

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Charlotte B. Williams
about 4 years

I love to feel the wind blowing, with it's life sustaining force. Makes my Day. Nice poem

Robert L. Martin
over 4 years

I saw him yesterday playing with the leaves on the maple tree. Very good moving poem.

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