Drying out the shine to teeth and tongue,
The wind rips the words from my mouth.
Compelling, and all-powerful, it jumbles them to a blur of what was spoken.
Far deafened, by the blaring that carelessly drags them through time.
The wind, invisible, yet its presence-and lack thereof-is undeniable.
It plays tricks; your hair becomes its game. The leaves no longer belong to the trees, merely existing to play a part in the relentless rebellion.
From the bark, almost inevitably, they face impatient fingers,
And through the space the world has to give us, the wind pours.
The wind is mindless and bruting. Defeating all in its path and yet, so remarkably patient.
Gentle and modest, taking just what it needs, it is on its way.
It is our surrounding, it brings ripples from flat sea. And when the eye extends to its limits, it seems the wind, so earthly, reaches the boulder that blemishes the sky.
Driving the moons every move, and its eternal take to the water.
The wind rips the words from my mouth.
Compelling, and all-powerful, it jumbles them to a blur of what was spoken.
Far deafened, by the blaring that carelessly drags them through time.
The wind, invisible, yet its presence-and lack thereof-is undeniable.
It plays tricks; your hair becomes its game. The leaves no longer belong to the trees, merely existing to play a part in the relentless rebellion.
From the bark, almost inevitably, they face impatient fingers,
And through the space the world has to give us, the wind pours.
The wind is mindless and bruting. Defeating all in its path and yet, so remarkably patient.
Gentle and modest, taking just what it needs, it is on its way.
It is our surrounding, it brings ripples from flat sea. And when the eye extends to its limits, it seems the wind, so earthly, reaches the boulder that blemishes the sky.
Driving the moons every move, and its eternal take to the water.
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