ripping over
the tops of the trees
coming in from the west.
I heard the wind today
and its sound cleansed me
down to my bones.
Its wonder
makes me shudder
at just
how beautiful it sounds,
how it glances off my
skin, some
going right through me
to my heart;
to my soul.
Bathing in
the air has become
a second baptism;
a capturing of God
in the pores of my skin.
I will hold Him there -
in my cells -
with memory,
with feeling,
and with the closing of my
eyes that
comes with the fresh scent
of windy air and shivering leaves
on the not yet sleeping
trees of pre-autumn.
All of the branches
bob in the freshness of
the air
and the leaves;
they chatter and sing
reminding me that they
will soon
disappear -
falling to the ground
to die - never
to feel the wind again -
as leaves.
But, they will
as dirt.
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