The Wind Calls

In the turning time,
in the first flickers,
the possibilities,
 of dawn
The wind calls her.
Sometimes she ignores it.
Sometimes she pretends she has another name and cannot be called by anything but.
Sometimes,
most times,
she smiles
sadly
and turns to go.
To follow the sighing, 
the beckoning,
the wrapping around tree trunks and rippling curtains.
   “What was that?” 
        “Just the wind…”
The wind calls her,
and her shoes fit better when they’re on the road,
and her mouth smiles easier when its not having to make conversation,
and she doesn’t know how to settle,
the wind hasn’t whispered that,
only how to change,
to freshen before the storm
and then when it hits
to allow the storm to fill you, 
full of crackling power and fierce power,
and power to topple a building,
but the sweet cooling rain also,
and the shineshifting kaleidoscope of just washed stones.
The wind knows,
the wind wants her to know also,
but she doesn’t understand,
she only knows how to follow.
To be the knight without a grail,
the pilgrim without a map,
but the wind takes her anyway…
It calls her you see,
it knows her.
In the turning time,
in the first flickers,
the possibilities,
 of dawn
comes the wind.
And it calls her,
it calls her by name.
©jayetomas2015
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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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