The Calling
The winged winds are whistling
Reaching up t'wards highest reaches
Opening doors and slamming them shut just as eagerly
Lying in wait, to snap at the heels of antiquity
The winds know the world before and after
But the world is not yet ready...
Upward, upwards, spiralling out of the world
Relinquished above clouds
With children running below
Carrying kites and fighting to be first
Singing and laughing and shouting at the wind
Saying, "Come play with us!" And, "We can run fast!"
But the wind is not with them...
Onwards, onwards, turning tides against the world
Seething over causeways and sweeping through vastly
Harrying reeds and their loose, knotted grasses
Making a shield of pure motion against the sky
And in the shrill hum of commotion in all that is
The wind makes its eternal melody
And in such, the wind is holding fast...
The wind knows only where it goes
And it flows and billows anywhere the wisdom wills
Seeking out new edifices, places to spring from
New heights in low planes
Making stiff young faces
Gleam, dancing like renegades
Leaving without trace or setting seam
The wind says, "You're not the only one I want."
But the world is not listening...
Copyright © Sarah Astarii | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment