Wind Poem

There are winds out there, they cause the windows and doors 

to move. They have their own language.

This is not as easy as stealing from the blind.

As I walk through forests the trees seem to move behind me.

The splittered wood has not been made into books, and

the muddy path pulses, a second birth.

This is not real, these are things inside of me,

ice on branches, sleet on frozen ground, words as rain.

They circle around me like cold, brown leaves.

Reviews

[cynthiabuhainbaello]

Strong and powerful with vivid images that convey deep sadness and gloom from the storm inside one's self. Great poetic work!

[Sami Khalil]

The splittered wood has not been made into books.
Very deep thought . Very nice.

[Hidden Happiness]

a powerful poem.somthing about it makes me sad and i guess a little cold...good job:-).

[emmajoy]

What a description, what power though wretched. Seems more like life and how it leaves one drained, devoid of warmth and hope .. but then, the setting is so sharp it could be more, far more. ' and the muddy path pulses, a second birth' . So many moments are not what they seem..

[Star Wolf]

As if one is being tormented from within. Those seemingly endless emotional storms. Awesome poem!

[Tina Kline]

Great descriptions describing the chaos that exists within us all and the chaos that exists around us. A truly superb and creative poem.

[Cascara (aka Sprint Goe..]

deep, reflective work...nice

[Ken Simm.]

The storm felt both outside and in. Remarkable. Excellent metaphor and very strongly written.

[Wolf's Dark Song]

Excellent poem...storms on the outside and inside...maybe there really isn't a difference. I really enjoyed reading this.