Four Winds

Where goes the wind

when it pulls up its stakes and

leaves me?

what other scalp will it run

its long fingers through?

what ear will take in the whisper,

the secrets of the air?

what lungs will breathe it in,

be changed,

and exhale it again?

I don’t think it has a home

or a place of rest,

but where does it go when

it leaves me?

someday I’ll find a way

to follow it, to become the blow

and the hiss

and find where goes the wind

when it no longer

wants me.

Reviews

[R.E. Ray]

I think of the wind as an unsettled, amorphous ghost who uses his/her invisibility to do as he/she pleases. Deliberate or whim, it matters not to the wind. We can't control it. We can't negotiate with it. We can't buy it. We can only endure it, blowing through our scalps and carrying the debris and gossip of our neighbors. This is a well written poem that leaves us unsettled, realizing there's some things in nature we cannot control (maybe like some people, too).

[JR]

Agreed, it's always out of our control... but man sometimes I really wish I could control it... lol.

[R.E. Ray]

I understand, JR. :)

[Ayesha]

The pessimist complains about the wind;
the optimist expects it to change;
But the opportunist adjusts the sails.

Beautiful lines. It is true that we cannot capture or tame the air. It has its own wanderings. Can be calamitous like a tornado , or as gentle as a puff on a birthday cake. But in any of its forms, it reminds us that there is much more to the world than what we can see. And we have an unseen connection with it. Loved your poem.

[JR]

Thank you! Yes, I definitely feel that unseen connection to it, and to nature as well.

[AJNJ]

I like the way the wind is portrayed to know us intimately. Feels almost like following a lover that no longer wants me. Very unique.

[JR]

Boom. Nailed it. Good metaphor, yeah?

[AJNJ]

Excellent. I need to put on my thinking cap too. You’re really good.

[JR]

Thanks bud. Feel the same about your poems.

[AJNJ]

🤗..........! Thanks.