Poem: Wind Ode

 

Wind Ode

 

a festival of hugs

defying loneliness,

calming and stroking,

 

ethereal liquid sculptor

never to die, always regenerate,

as it curves and uncurves

 

to uphold the sky and spill it,

to pray and to moan 

both sacred and sexual and 

redolent and effulgent,

an embryo-turning-ancient

rushing toward faintest hints 

of understanding,

 of art and soul.

 

the clues flirt and somersault

answer and evade

what we crave to find

in the wind,

so many fugues and incantatas

which subsume the dreams of bards,

beyond song and yet oh so real,

amorphous mirrors of our most secret breaths.

 

 

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2/25/25 ... major mods

10/23 ... changed last stanza and a line above
spellbinding