"the song of the Wind…"

 to hear
the song of the Wind,
you must
be still,
bid all mental chatter
cease,
and let the mechanism of modernity
be hushed

then,
trees become cellos,
the lake an oboe,
the dry winter grass
a section of strings,
our house a harp,

and the Wind -
a many-fingered Artist
calls forth
Her symphony
from nature's waiting instruments

while the sheets
and pillowslips dance
along a chorus line
of twine
strung
between two hearts...



[photoart by Jaime Heiden Photography]