To be the wind

I want to be the calm comfort of a gentle breeze. Softly swaying from side to side in its romantic lullaby.

I want to be the wind that the bird flies through. The movement of the air that connects and creates and calls.

To be the roaring howl of the hurricane, storming through land, sky and sea. To be seen, to be heard, to awaken the senses.

The wind creating a shiver as it rushes by on a cold winter’s day. Or cooling the skin when the sun has set its burning heat upon your face. Reminding you that you are alive and feeling.

I want to be the silent breath that connects every space between us, moving as part of the air that circles our bodies.

To be creator of music through chimes and vessels as I move within the dance.

The air that pushes and pulls. That helps to move life forward or forms resistance when it knows it is moving too quickly.

I want to be the flutter under the wings of a butterfly and the gust that stops humans in their tracks as a train rushes by.

I want to be the moving space given to wildly winged creatures, assisting in loops and swirls and weaves through the world. The gust of life that moves them along when their wings are becoming tired.

The carrier of kisses through the airs of romance and daydreams. The carriage of wishes blown into the skies for safe keeping.

To be the whistle in the trees as you are huddled by the fire, reminding you that I am here, that there is life on the outside as you take your solitary shelter within.

The sway through the branches and the swirl around the leaves.

I want to be the exhale, the calm release.

I want to be the whirlwind shaking and waking and moving ground.

I want to be the wind.

 

Originally published at Meraki

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