Soul Mates

Darn! The wind is back with a vengeance. Its howling, making the trees and grasses become its instrument. Gusts to 40 mph they say; I believe it. But the sky is so blue and the clouds are illuminated from within. Today the wind is so strong that I can smell the pine scent from the mountains — from the mountains where his ashes swirl. He lifts my hair and whirls it around my face, and in the scent on the wind I am awash with cleanness. The tune he plays as he surrounds my body is one of memories, and greeting. The wind slowly becomes more gentle; caressing now; touching me in a more loving way. Exploring with long cool fingers, around, reaching under my clothing, becoming intimate. Forfeiting his boldness, with a sigh he leaves on soft goodbyes. Darn, the wind is gone.