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The Language of the Wind
Trying to find beauty in the smaller things,
Today I walked home without music.
The wind whispered indistinctly,
Though what it said soon became lucid.
A winter stroll beside a busy road,
My lungs were so cold I feared I may freeze
Until a sparrow in his light beige coat
Spread his little wings and bathed in the breeze.
Around the fire, I tried to warm my bones
And ogled at the dancing flame.
I swear, a face in the smoke winked at me
as the flames moved in cursive to spell out my name.
When I wrote of the breeze, it all came together,
Nature's language is far beyond words in a glossary.
Poetry showed me the depth of a fleeting moment's beauty
With it, the language of the wind will never be lost on me.
© Jodes.D
Today I walked home without music.
The wind whispered indistinctly,
Though what it said soon became lucid.
A winter stroll beside a busy road,
My lungs were so cold I feared I may freeze
Until a sparrow in his light beige coat
Spread his little wings and bathed in the breeze.
Around the fire, I tried to warm my bones
And ogled at the dancing flame.
I swear, a face in the smoke winked at me
as the flames moved in cursive to spell out my name.
When I wrote of the breeze, it all came together,
Nature's language is far beyond words in a glossary.
Poetry showed me the depth of a fleeting moment's beauty
With it, the language of the wind will never be lost on me.
© Jodes.D
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