The Wind

I hate the wind

last night it blew

roaring through the trees

torturing and bending them

pushing them almost to the breaking point

then suddenly releasing them

allowing them exhausted to stagger to their feet

shrieking around sharp corners

like a lament from hell

an invisible power in the dark

it swirled the world into chaos

lifting

tossing

tearing

the woods this morning were different

trash can's missing and scattered

a carpet of branching lining the ground

trees newly stripped of leaves

and still the wind blows

motion

power 

even destruction

and yet

a good wind

cleans as well as litters

it stirs and moves

driving away stale smoke

and stagnation

 

the wind is fresh

it makes nature dance

 

much like the Spirit

when it hits our souls

 

sometimes we would inhibit it

try to control it

but that only makes this worse

better to let it roar and shreek

better to let it toss our inner worlds into chaos

 

and clear out our souls

and make them dance.