Where Blows the Wind

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

To feel and to know the power and the beauty of the wind, is to see beyond the stars and feel the cosmic coldness of the void that hides the meaning of existence.

“I hear the wind approach. Its roar belies the gentle gusts that drift across the waves of time. Its soulless howl like distant cries that echo in the night. How cold the breath of time that soars across the cosmic seas, to finally shiver, quiver and die upon the splendor of divine design.”

WHERE BLOWS THE WIND

By Al Garcia

 

I hear the wind approach.

Its roar belies the gentle gusts

that drift across the waves of time.

Its soulless howl like distant cries

that echo in the night.

How cold the breath of time

that soars across the cosmic seas,

to finally shiver, quiver and die

upon the splendor of divine design.

 

It is the wind that captures the rapture

of the floating seeds of life

that float among the stars.

It is the cosmic wind that cradles and nurtures

the secrets of undiscovered stars,

where lie the muted sounds of evolving chaos

among the turbulence and flurry

of blowing streams of air

that stir and whisk awake

the dormant dust of time.

 

Where blows the wind,

so too the cadence and the pulse of time

begin to throb.

For it is the wind where flows

the relentless streams of energy and force

that uplifts, churns and whirls

the frenzy of chaotic possibilities

and the randomness of the expanding cosmic tapestry of stars. 

 

A spectral rainbow of power and rage.

A momentary eruption of unleashed fury,

amplifying the potency and wrath

of the unreined power of waves of time. 

 

Where blows the wind,

so flows the force of the intensity of nature’s voice.

For it is the wind that thrust the sound and fury

of creation across the cosmic sea of time,

and made the light that cast a silvery shadow

in the night.

It is the wind that speaks of things that were,

and of seasons yet to be,

in eons not yet reached. 

 

It is the wind that moves the hands of time

across the dazzling sapphire sky.

It is the wind that stirs the peddles

in the cold deep pond of the void

that fills the emptiness beyond

the twinkling stars that light the night. 

 

It is the wind that sets adrift the dreams of time,

and the gentle breeze that calms the troubled specters of fading and dying time.

It is the roar of timeless winds,

bursting and blowing in perfect harmony

with the symphony of blazing lights and the thunderous silence of nothingness,

that exhales the turbulent breath of time,

that echoes in the distant night,

like soulless howls of agony and grief.

 

I hear the wind approach,

and feel its cold embrace.

And I shiver and quiver,

as I see the ageless face of time.

 


Submitted: January 08, 2022

© Copyright 2022 A.Garcia. All rights reserved.

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