Sonnet to the Wind by Wanda Stricklin Robertson Oh, Wind, I hear you scream outside my door. Why is it that you hurry on your way? Surely, you have taken this path before; Your unyielding breath refusing to stay. This endless travel would exhaust a man but you press tirelessly, time and again. Pushing to complete an ultimate plan that has no beginning, that has no end. Crashing waves and billows thunder your might; Seeds are scattered and great mountains are worn. You splinter buildings, make houses take flight, then dance with flowers when morning is born. Oh, Wind, you jester! You troublesome boor! Calm yourself and get away from my door!
Bloggy Randomness. All text and images copyright of wandastricklinrobertson.