The Wind Games
The wind is whipping through my hair.
It is late, and the moon is full.
I can hear my footfalls echoing through the woods as my shoes crush the dry leaves the forest floor.
A bitter chill as the wind tears through my thin layers of clothing,
Freezing my heart... Nagging at my gait,
Wind in my face, whispering in my ears like an old lover...
Telling me to leave this place or play her games~
All or nothing. Nothing at all.
The moon is winking at me through the blowing trees;
Either warning me. or trying to reassure me I know not.
I try to hide my burning soul from these elements of fear.
The vivid moonlight exposes all.
Cold Arctic blasts from the North.
Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. No safety is near.
Wind is playing with me. I cannot run to where I thought I could.
Many miles I have roamed,
Seeking what I cannot now remember.
Thoughts fly through my head faster than the passing clouds flying overhead.
The clouds watch me.
The moon winks.
The wind tackles me to my knees.
I am alone here in this place.
The wind screams a banshee song.
I fall asleep to these nightmares,
My heart pounding a melody of fear.
The Moon peeks at me through the trees .
~Shawn M.J. Mann
Quill Spirit & Creativity Home