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Poetry News Post #161

The Wild Wind

Written by: Saraswati Iolar
Date: Sunday, December 7th, 2003
Addressed to: Cimi, the Hidden Hand


Morning dew, a gentle caress.
The Wind blowing on my face, tenderly.
Whispering secrets in my ear.
Like the love of a Mother, a guiding hand.

At the night, great storm rises from the east, hurricane.
The Wind now shaking me, violently.
Shrieking in frustration, anger.
Like a hit on my face.

And she rides with the Wild Wind.

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Ferinus, in the year 421 AD.


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