I Am Wind

I once filled the sails of billowing boats,
drove brigs and barques and full-rigged ships,
laden with silk and spice, across vast oceans.
I would run them through the waves for miles,
then drop them in the doldrums and disappear.

I have many names. I have seen many wondrous things.

When I am Breeze I shake down pale spring blossom
like confetti. I ripple through fields of golden wheat,
blow big, white, pillowy clouds into shapes in the sky.
I float bright hot air balloons over fields and towns,
make wind chimes sing. I carry scents and sounds,
fried fish, coffee, night-blooming jasmine, chatter.

When I am Fresh I dance washing upon the line,
I whirl and twirl seeds and spread them far and wide.
I catch colourful kites, tugging their strings tight,
dipping, diving and swooping to screams of delight.
I gallop over surf, lifting the wings of seabirds and
sailplanes aloft so they can ride me back to shore.

When I am Strong I snap flags on flagpoles,
spin and pivot weather vanes, whip the leaves
from trees and shower them all red and golden.
I rustle through rubbish and cartwheel down the street.
Everyone bustles, hurrying here and scurrying there.
I snatch hats from heads and turn umbrellas inside-out.

When I am Storm I am a wild spirit.
Boats make fast to moorings, animals seek shelter.
I gale, I hail, I rumble and roar, I boom, crack, crash
and flash. I howl and hurl, blasting and blustering
in bitter gusts and swiftly driven drifts of snow.
I capsize sailboats and wreck ships.

I can leap over mountains and tumble, cool and swift,
through narrow passes. I upswell and downslope,
warm and dry, I rush to valleys, sweeping and scouring
the wide plateau. Villagers gather in their flocks before me.
I stumble over hills and highlands. I am born out of deserts
and funnel through canyons, fanning forest flames.

My sandstorms redden the sky and blot out the sun,
stifling, stinging, suffocating. I sculpt dune fields
and sand seas. I skip, scoop and suck across water
to arrive, hot and humid, in Neapolitan streets.
I am the summer monsoon, I rain on thirsty cotton and rice.
I jet stream over polar ice, following the sun in winnowy waves.

I once turned the sails of mills to grind flour and draw up water,
but you have given me playgrounds of wind farms that crackle
with electricity. You have given me great metal birds.
I am ancient as time, I am younger than you. I rise and fall, sighing,
singing, whispering, whistling, wailing and dying, just like you.

I will be Wind long after you have gone.