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.
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