The dancing chandelier
The rustling curtain
The humming through the trees
The howling wilderness
Heralding the presence of the wind
Sometimes it comes softly, slowly
blowing towards us a gentleman
bringing a sweet calm to the soul.
Other times a low whistle
the trees swinging to its rhythm.
We are the leaves, swaying and swirling.
Life is but a challenge we must face,
we sing to calm our troubled souls
just to ease the pain and sorrow
it brings along.
When it blows against us
a fiery whirlwind
a howling wilderness
twirling us violently in its anger.
Some hold their faith for support
others their footings to find,
firmly on the rock they thought.
They are the prey,
the not so lucky, dragged
along in its fury
not a sign to sight,
nor a trace to tell of its passing,
like a sailing ship across the wave.
But the wind-blown
View original post 225 more words