Where does the gusts of wind silently blow
It’s breath brushes over the endless land
Silently crossing, like the fawn with doe
And quiet with stealth it does blow the sand
Blowing high, lifting the wings of the crow
Across the seas and oceans it has spanned
Reaching every crevice, both high and low
Rich in essence, unique in its command
Bearing seeds of life to places to grow
Moving the earth with each blown grain of sand
With the strength of nightmares, it is the foe
Or the gentle touch of a mother’s hand
Through the hills and beyond, where I don’t know
Following its route, eternally planned
Deliberate, knowing where it will go
Created by no man, nothing more grand
I love the music and the language in this. These are graceful quatrains.
I love playing with the sounds of poetry. Thanks for reading. Come back again.