I asked the wind to take it easy,
to keep it mild, light and breezy,
I said, " I thought of you this morning
when I saw the shepherds' warning,
I know you'll bring a stormy trail
and curtain call in full-on gale."
The wind replied, full of disdain:
"I'll do what I want with the waves and rain.
And I can make the air malevolent,
that's where I'm in my element.
I won't commit, I don't contract,
these gusts are just my opening act.
Just to confirm, as you might have guessed,
I'm a force of nature, I don't do requests.
It's October, you know, it's my time now,
I am the wind, I go anywhere anyhow.
What do I care for the plans you've made?
You can't regulate me any more than night and day."
The rain weighed in with a haughty-taughty sense,
"you do need some moderation, please temper yourself,
why are you so brazen, surely you can see,
you're not part of the equation, you're just a shelf for me.
And you're master of nothing, you don't swell the ocean,
that's down to the moon, you are full of lofty notions.
You're never in the right place at the right time
you're a law unto yourself on the ground and in the sky.
When forest fires are raging wild why don't you bring my rain?
Why insist on flying high just to fan the flames?"
"And when she takes her children kite-flying,"
the wind said, with a sigh,
"who is it makes the moment, who is it brings the smiles?"
"And when your washing's on the line," he said,
looking straight at me, "who do you rely on then?
The wind, that's who, that's me.
It's not I who sets the seasons, nor I who makes the dates.
I don't coin the reasons for festivals and fêtes.
That's all you, assuming that by the year dividing
you control the blooming, the wilting and the dying.
It's not I who builds the walls, nor I who digs down deep
I don't raise spires and sprawls of rock solid concrete.
That's all you, convinced of these lavish needs
neglecting that trapped draughts require release
and we'll go where we must to find that ease.
I am the wind, I blow where I please.
I won't bow out, whatever you say,
I know I'm the star and I own the stage."
(It's October, it's windy, not too bad yet. It's been 2 years since my 'incident' with the wind: I saw our recycling flying all over the garden so I went out to the bin. I was just out the back door when the wind picked me up and lobbed me against the bank around our yard. You'd say something if I wasn't a bit overweight!
I used to love the sound of it around the house this time of year but now I listen for what destruction it's causing.
Where we live we have to accept strong gusts as par for the course and I know when we build tall concrete structures we're forcing the wind to gain momentum but I hate it! I fear a rough Winter ahead.)
Note on 04/10/2015: I had originally scheduled this to publish on 01/10/2015 but, because I would then need that date for my poem about my uncle's funeral (because I wanted the date stamp for his month's mind), I bumped it to 2nd October and forgot to edit it (I always have multiple drafts saved). So, it published but it wasn't finished. Today, I added some missing text and may still add more as I look through my drafts. Sorry if you thought it was disjointed, it was!
