The Blowing Wind

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

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2 Responses to The Blowing Wind

  1. Thomas Davis says:

    I love the music and the language in this. These are graceful quatrains.

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