The Admonishing Wind

The trumpet of a prophecy! O wind To gravely foretell of things soon to be Upon your journey as you onward dash. You whisper fortunes for each and any Or speak of downfalls to befall us all. Blow from the bright, silver, frozen north ice Slowly depleting and turned to ocean. Carry the tidings past inlet and shore Where feather and wing, polluted by grime, Are strangely. awkwardly, misplaced and lost. Rustle the white-purpled hillside heather Crying out for the rains, pleading in vain, Sunburned and sun-bronzed where once were the storms But drizzles are seldom mentioned today For clouds are redundant and left to roam. Darkness falls early to shadow the land The coughing of chimneys wind gathers up And is choked by the wheezing smoking breath Which stifles and smothers the end of day, Where darkness lingers, reluctant to go. Yet, we say we care for our mother earth: As our god watches blindly, we do nought But talk of repentance to save our souls Though don't heed the sighs of the warning wind So, it shuts out hope and wisps it away.