the wind is a drifter
shuffling through the debris
with footprints in the tops of trees,
It sets the leaves all free.

the wind is a whisper
it carries us all through the days.
its the air in every breath we take,
the voice in every phrase.

the wind is wisdom,
an old man with a cane,
with tales of gales at the tops of buildings
out past the weather vane.

the wind is a set of wings,
that set the sailboats free.
three corners for every dimension,
kites stretching to eternity.

the wind is a destroyer,
it erodes the landscape over time.
eats away at the mountains
until their is nothing left to climb.

the wind is a creator,
it builds nature into blocks,
propagates seeds to pollinate
and keeps birds in their flocks.

The wind is a feather,
it always finds its way to dirt,
it's the strength and weakness in weather,
moves feelings of happiness and hurt.

the wind holds everything together
and strips everyone to bones.
it moved through the heart of moitessier,
and it moves though my own.