As summer slowly melts into autumn, there
comes a sudden shift,
the hills blush and become an interesting
shade of vermillion
while trees, left bare, descend willingly
without a thought,
here the weather is volatile,
is as human psyche, covering her footprints–
I speak directly to the wind.
The wind, which was rough, tore at itself,
it is amazing how one can say so much without
words, the wind,
in gossamer hush of dawn,
the wind, as details darken to ebony-black,
I find myself resonating with its many moods
and mysterious ways.
Outside the clouds are in a frenzy,
are filled with moisture and are preparing
for a storm; it is difficult to describe how nature
is feeling everything and nothing at once.
The wind, exists as an ocean without seabed,
as amber sunrise without the sun,
is both alone and absent–
you see, on a windy day such as this
even fate bends,
I never realized before how grateful I am
for the change,
I wish I could explain the weather,
how I wish I could point out intricacies,
it’s a lot like me; it’s a lot like me.
In a parallel universe, a 20 something year old
me, smiles.
Photo credits: Aerial photography of high-rise buildings, Pexels.
Poem inspired by the title of Emily Jane Bronte’s poetic masterpiece,
“The wind was rough which tore.”
Oh yes, the weather all around the world is as volatile as the human psyche! I too am grateful for the changes in weather, but not for some of the extremes that the world has seen recently! Sigh.
Thank you so much, Mary 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄💙
I love “I speak directly to the wind.” And what a beautiful description of wind “as an ocean without seabed, as amber sunrise without sun.” Intriguing to picture it as an absence. And your closing eyes made me smile, too, along with the parallel universe you!
Sigh. I meant closing LINES. Time for my nap! LOL.
💙💙💙
Thank you so much, Sherry 😀 so glad you enjoyed it! 💄💙
(and thank you for the glorious prompt) 🥂
“The wind, exists as an ocean without seabed,
as amber sunrise without the sun, ”
You give the wind both human and inhuman capabilities. Indeed, it is everywhere (or nowhere), and everything is changed by it. “even fate bends.” Imagine that!
Thank you so much, Susan 😀 so glad the poem and its imagery appealed to you 💄💙
This is a well thought out poem Sanaa. I always loved and love the colors you use in your poems. “the hills blush and become an interesting / shade of vermillion”…the lines encompass deep feelings. I hear nature breathing here all through. Beautiful.
Thank you so much, Sumana 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄💙
Sanna,
I suppose the weather will always be something of a mystery, because of its unpredictability, in spite of all the technologies available to help predictability.
The seasons have been shifting and not quite as reliable as in previous years…we can only watch and hope for good weather, to suit our needs!
Thank you so much, Eileen 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄💙
a beauful poem!!
Thank you so much, Annell 😀 so good to see you 💄💙
you see, on a windy day such as this
even fate bends,
^ favorite line – it is wonderful!
Thank you so much, Margaret 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄💙
This is a thoughtful one. The wind is so powerful, and speaks, I’m sure, even though we don’t understand. Without the wind, would the leaves even fall?
Thank you so much, Jane 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄💙
The wind in this neck of the woods has been dreadful. We didn’t have wind like this when I was growing up and it is, as I understand, another manifestation of climate change. Or global warming, which is the more accurate phrase but raises the hackles on the hacks.
Your poem, the wind and the frenzied clouds, describes my corner of Michigan. Thanks.
Thank you so much, Yvonne 🙂 so glad you liked it 💄💙