And When the Winds Bellow, Sometimes You Just Gotta Get Creative




What if the wind weren’t a phantom?

Befitting its gusts and breezes

Suiting up before its salutation

Greeting us gently in slight formation of butterfly wings

Or abruptly like batwing twitches

Twirling toward town as a ballerina dancer

A parting stage curtain preceding winter rain

Jellyfish skirts brushing the leaves of autumn tree branches

What a sight the breeze would be

If she were the feather of God’s pen

Brushing past the sky

In cosmic calligraphy

Dressing for each blustery occasion

In the garment of dragon scales

Or the shadowy cloak of a beastly tail

If each fabric of wind reflected its temperament

Which shifty seraph impregnates sails?

Who is the playful cherub carrying my kite?

Or the mistress behind a summer wind kiss?

Whose haphazard broom sweeps past this city early in spring?

This invisible passerby

The unclothed zephyr

Forceful, considerate, impulsive, tranquil

Carries me deep into imagination

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