Listen to the wind

Listen to the wind. 

A morning wind, awake with the sun, 

     chasing rain and storms that thundered through the night

          but left no traces in the brilliant sky today.

A wind that greets the birds now singing with delight, 

     as if the morning were an unexpected thing.

A Summer wind 

     commanding lush, green trees to wake and dance today– 

          shaking lazy, gathered pools from vibrant leaves 

   to rain again in encore; 

        this time 

             down and down and down 

                   to woodsy floor. 

Clean and shiny verdant life now shimmers in the morning sun.

This is the sound of living trees rejoicing in their strength. 

I think I hear their voices…

     satisfied rumbles of roots that burrow deep in rain drenched earth; 

     sated leaves thrumming with life drawn up to the highest veins; 

     bark that creaks and cracks as sapwood bursts
             into a new and living ring;  

         whispered joys of 

              growing, reaching, stretching to the sun.  

                   The sun that is the lifeblood of the tree.

Can you hear that, too, within the clamor of the wind?

Listen to the wind. 

The type of wind that rolls from tree to tree 

     like waves upon the deepest sea.  

          The rolling and rolling that fills the world 

                from East to West and North to South, 

             but doesn’t stop to crash upon a shore.

The rushing through the grass 

     that chases little creatures 

           back down holes 

                 after ventures up to

      sneak a smell of new cleansed earth, 

               and sneak a peek at rain drops 

          clinging to the grass above their heads ~

                 which shower them instead

                          to drench their boldness.

Listen to the wind.

This is no Autumn wind 

     that rustles past and urges us 

         to sit by cozy, indoor fires 

              or run outside, 

     brisk amid the muted colors all around. 

This is no Winter wind 

     that whistles lonely tunes 

          or hollow wails 

               that make us shiver

           with the longing of our souls. 

This is no Spring wind 

     bringing tender wisps of hinted scents 

          to fill us up with hope of warmth 

               and living things 

           with each deep breath.

This is the wind of full-blown Summer, 

     of life and power and joy in all Creation.  

This day, a symphony of sounds
     and morning light on world so fresh and new. 

          Echoes of Morning in those days

            when all things were declared so Very Good.

And it’s early; 

     the house is still,

         with drapes pulled wide to greet the dawn 

                in all its light and sound and scent.

So I lie in my bed and listen to the wind.

                                               ~Sara~