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Whisper In the Wind

Quiet sounds surround every thought throughout invisible crevices, hiding behind the unseen. A single tree nonchalantly sways out of rhythmically forested life. Aimed in an unknown direction; feelings of hopelessness; unreasonably so. Lost in movement; running out of options—listening for the right words—once again, let down. Lowered expectations bring heighten spirits. Poor results increase in value. Harmless innuendos received defensively; creating awkward tension. Whispers buzz like lower case a's in tune with harsh reality. 
   Lighthouses watch waves crash against tidal currents, tormented by wind blown rocky shores. Blind faith, belief blinks and higher meanings dissipate; a sailor lowers his head. Tear drop eyes hide from long lasting connection; insecurity begins to surface—exposing secrets that have been kept hidden.
   Deep beneath innocence, honest breath passes another fumbled whisper—stumbling words fall behind paying mind; mumbling madness about clinching fists, at wicks end outraged by this vice... Ultimately powerless of secrecy's trip.
    Routine seems to presume a safe secret kept quiet but given such reaction; evidently mistaken. Gusts of wind carry sound into the arms of eternity. There it remains; forever. Only to be discovered; in time. Secrets float away; like a message in a bottle; a worthless meddling. 
   Rain falls parade, marches on; to a beat of its own. Short lived memory clears the mind; allowing a break—shutting it off; relief... Windows of doubt form frowns, glass eyes gaze into the depths of solitude. Calm ironically substitutes, momentarily prevailing storms wage. Words made of quiet sounds; manifest through thought, howling winds swirl rhythmically in stride. Gracefully galloping rain clouds whisper in wind, water droplets represent life as cold air and dust particles collect until suddenly, ice chunks hail upon earth and explode atop rock. Lightning lights up the night sky and thunders growling low screams shake the ground. Trees crack down in trunks leaving defenseless branches to timber. Natures fury is served and the cycle of life fast forwards its time; completely uprooted. 
   The man in the moon's menacing wink prompts a convincing grin; winking through clearing passages, assessing damage and counting heads; catching brief glimpses of hope. Raising heads ping back, brief smiles, dimples and grins sigh relief as lighthouse luminescence gleam. Glistening beyond sky, piercing into earth, seeing straight through stone and reflecting like stars from every imaginable aspect. A sailor raises his head for one last look—watching the whisper in the wind depart; heading toward oblivion...


Originated January 2015
Intensively edited on 
11-05-16

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Andrea Dietrich Date: 11/6/2016 6:46:00 PM Wow, Ironic. I don't know how much of it was edited, but I can see this is the type of poem that an author would want to perfect because it is saying so much! LOve your attention to detail and the clever imagery and use of "sounds" as well. Very nice! Login to Reply Ironic Zink Date: 11/6/2016 7:24:00 PM Big thanks! I haven't had an opportunity to give it a another revision until now; of course due to your comment. In my poetic past, I found it to be a criminal act to edit my poetry. Those days are long gone and I need to give this poem one more edit as I found a few missed spots to butter up. It is much different than its original. Thanks again Andrea, you brought out a smile.