Wind Song

The wind whistles eerily, as the storm approaches,
it gradually encroaches, taking over
like some unscrupulous military machine,
giving way to no one,
just charging along at a fierce pace,
buffeting anything that gets in the way.

It cannot turn back, not once it's committed.
The oncoming storm whips it into swirls of forceful energy,
it is uncontrollable.

This wind brings with it a follower.
The rain.
Battering and pounding on the rooftops,
lashing against the windows,
drumming a rhythmic revelry.

Here is a temper at full spate, caring not one iota
for the damage inflicted on man or beast or their environment.

Then suddenly, the sky starts to brighten,
the clouds part and the sun peeps through.

The storm is passing, and all is fresh and clean.
The rain's work is done,
and the elements are at peace once more.

© Ernestine Northover

by Ernestine Northover

Comments (4)

As a mom of four kids in this fast paced, tech satiated world, this is a piece to remember share.
how nice this poem.
We live, not by things, but by the meanings of things. It is needful to transmit the passwords from generation to generation. great lines. this has a real message to give. a master piece of poetry. very well written. good job. Crystal
A very worthwhile write, beautiful in its nature a caring for those to come and a hope lining their seams Wonderful craftmanship Love Duncan X