Windy Day

The wind blows where it will,
Billowing clouds high above our
Daily obsessions and
Searching with cold intimacy for
Gaps in our cloths.

Wind is the life of air
Counting time with fluttering leaves
And moving shadows,
And long ago it fleshed our Lover
Fanning flames in frigid hearts
To voice the fearless truth
That felled death.

Oh Lord, let me move like a dancer in your gale,
Blown headlong down the path you choose
Between the earth and sky.

--John Hearn