The Wind
The Wind
From where does it come
to where does it go?
From where does this energy flow?
a gentle breeze to cool the day
can scatter everything in its way
With a sudden violent gust
it whips up all the dirt and dust
Then it meanders and swirls
and about turns and twirls
Sometimes a powerful and destructive force
but from where is its limitless source?
When it has travelled along its way
does it go somewhere to stay?
It seems to have a mind of its own
blowing wherever it likes to roam
It cannot be touched or seen
but one can see where it has been
It is often warm or cold
but never does what it is told
Breathing and whispering night and day
it is forever at work and play
Sounds of it rustle through the trees
and blow about the scattered leaves
It charts the direction of rising smoke
and orders such by a simple stroke
From where does it come
to where does it go?
Does anyone seem to know?
Seán Maguire
Tue 13th Jun 2017 01:38
I took a wee trip to a Spain whilst reading this poem. It reminded me many holiday times, simple things like enjoying the comfort of breezes.