Poem: Windy

Whispering through the trees, it does rattle the falling leaves.

Caressing and seeing all, it travels the world with no cares at all.

Knowing near and far the mountains of the east or oceans of the west,

slithering and sliding through the cracks of walls touching all surfaces

it knows best. Pushing storms and midnight clouds to and fro across the

deep green seas that flow. Sailors ships guided gracefully across the

watery depths where many vessels now lay below. Raising the sands or

roaring tornados which leave destruction in their wake causing such a

chaotic state. It is the element in which aids fire and it wounds as

much as it heals, it is the voice of mother nature and speaks to those

who venture to hear the stories of her years.