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Now, Comes the Wind

Now comes the wind,
   stealth like creeper whispering
   venting in the shadowy image of the trees.
A calm soft breeze easing in at first,
   a sojourner on the bland gray skies,
   dim lit end of winter's call, marching winds.
Rising high up in the atmosphere
   dropping down as if a bird of prey
   eyeing some tantalizing delights.
Breathless mistral bora chilling the air
   swooping in unsuspected xlook
   tantalizing the coastal seas to rise;
Breathe, taking in a sirocco
   as it slips and slides north and east
   riding zephyr upon the ocean currents.
To land across the distant horizon
   snaking, weaving, twisting along the foamy waves
   to touch the earth, twirl it up, down prairie mountain forests.
Now comes the wind
   unseen figure spread wide and thin
    catabatic current fleetings, scouring the earth.

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