Out
from the hills the changewind comes
Drawing nigh,
With sidebent eye,
And scant regard
For tranquillity.
Disquieting
trees, burnishing leaves,
The changewind swirls
Bright promises:
Of farflung shores, beckoning doors,
My heart's desire~
And brooks no plea
For stability.
Crystalline
clear, this keening caress,
The changewind sighs,
"No guaranty:
All life's becoming; each must choose,
To savor risk~
Or stay ensconced
In torpidity."
West
with the night the changewind soars
O'er shimmering seas,
'Neath starstrewn skies,
Embracing me, a butterfly,
Joyously wind-dancing.
©
Sheri S. Moreau
