A Year of Poems – Day 71

There has been a wind blowing off the Atlantic,
whipping through the sidewalks of the east,
driving all with relentless force towards their homes.
It bursts into the bars on Friday night
hitting the back corner where four sit in a warm corner.
The wind joins the conversation,
knitting and purling with the human heart
a chord of friendship laced with laughter.

There’s a breeze coming off the Pacific
pulling at the white lace of a coastal wedding
gracing the ceremony with a gentle dance.
It pushes the backs of volunteers
girding up their arms to pull victims from the mud.
It even comes to the gridlocked highways
passing through the stagnant exhaust
to meld its song with the car stereo.

There is a breath out and about
roaming the planet disguised as wind
It is related to the common human spirit,
but it is something more
which broods over human hearts
whispering in their ears
with the harsh strength of a blizzard’s gust,
the fierce mighty power of a hurricane,
and the quiet warm voice of a summer breeze.

If you listen and wait with expectation
it will rattle down the asphalt of the cul-de-sac
even in the still dead air of January.

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