Wind, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Cannot see thee, but thou art surely here,
As thee can speak to me violently,
Yet not a word of thee enters my ear,
And still thy force guides me decidedly.
Thy power commands trees, songs to whistle
Songs which touch people in varying ways,
Some so fearful they seek their dismissal,
While other so gentle request delays.
Thy power commands water shape to take
Normally flat as glass, jumps at thy call.
The stronger thy call, the larger the wave,
If thy call be soft the wave shall be small.
Wind, with all thy mighty power will thee,
Guide, the only love of my life to me.