the wind will not stop sighing.

~~~

The wind will not stop sighing. 

Its words are insistent and foreign

hour after hour...

It runs through the fields

and sprints through trees,

caressing the night into day.

It tries to summon or warn me ...

To tell me of something

I cannot,

on my own,

perceive.

The wind will not stop sighing

as it slides across the cold waters,

bending the brown grass marshes,

imploring roving tails and thrushes,

of some emphatic, unrelenting news.

The wind will not stop sighing.

It will not close its appeals around me,

nor gather its clothes and leave.

Beneath the pall of such a dark fortune,

I can't explain or understand

that which lies beyond

my grasp.

~~~

Author's Note

Thanks Susan, It looks better. :)

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Mother nature will not conform to what humans believe it should. it is unpredictable, that is its only guarantee.

[Relic]

And you are right about that, Cowboy. Thank you for the comment. :)

[Ken e Bujold]

Beneath the pall... no we can't explain or understand what lies beyond, but you poem very much gets to the heart of why we keep on trying. Best of the season Relic

[Relic]

Thank you, Ken. I'm unable to review any poems due to the site being inoperable for me. I'll be sure to look at your newest ones in the future.

[Ken e Bujold]

don't worry about it friend. currently at work sweating an upcoming volume into shape, so new works here will be sparse for foreseeable future.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

I really like this. It reflects on how Mother Nature is an endless mystery

[Relic]

Thank you, Dale. :)

[Red Brick Keshner]

Perhaps we are meant to soar with the wind as it passes and float with it 'til it sets us down to pick us up again. Perhaps the sighing is a message from eons, of times and places and thoughts beyond our own, echoing through the ages. Perhaps it is okay as well to shut the windows and doors until we are able to again listen to the wind. Perhaps. Just some random thoughts. Spurred on by that wind and its sighing. Thanks for sharing. /Frederick.

[Relic]

Thanks very much. Sorry for the late response.

[Charlie's Enigmatic Wre..]

Lovely poem, well written and poignant. When I read this, I could sense the wind rustling through the grass, rippling over the water. Well done, your imagery is splendid!

[Relic]

I appreciate your comment, thank you and when time permits, I'll be by your way. :)

[Fran Marie]

The wind moves in mysterious ways
its sighing of dark fortune will
probably never cease, perhaps
knowing more of misfortune
than one can comprehend
an emotive and well crafted piece

[Relic]

Thank you, Fran. :)

[DIVYA]

A dark fortune which seems beyond the grasp of most. The wind will not stop sighing, perhaps it knows what lies ahead is even darker. The words of the wind are foreign but I feel it's incessant wailing in your words. A very imaginative poem with a strong undercurrent of emotion.

[Relic]

Thanks for a great review, Divya. :)

[William Michael Reeves]

I liked the thought of wind blowing the days into nights. The wind sighs about everything. Cries too! The wind is rich. Collecting lives. Be nice when the wind dies.

[Relic]

Tank you, Bill. :)

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Tim, I really enjoyed this piece! The way you describe the wind in many descriptive ways takes us through many different phases! Enjoyed!

[Relic]

Thank you, Kathy. :)

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

My pleasure!

[Cherrie Palmer]

I love the many sounds of the wind. Wither it's a loud rushing sound or a whisper. It is always speaking.
I wrote a story once where the wind became a character in the story. I like what you done and the many places you let it lead us.

[Relic]

Thanks so much, Cherrie. :)