As I write this, the wind blows hard outside, begging to be let in…to share my space.
I ponder the air and how it works…some days caressing your face while in another
area taking houses from occupants and making seas angry.
Wishing to speak, not liking my descriptions it howls through cracks in my window.
Threatening my shingles, shaking them violently,
it begs me to let it have its say.
Allow me the chance to explain. To defend myself…it whispers to me gently one moment then urgently the next.
I have come from afar, traveling many miles to reach you in this moment. My purpose for coming so rapidly, so hurriedly is for you.
I have been sent to carry your words to others, some near…some far.
Your sweet utterances of prayers, of praises, of tears, of joys I carry on my wings…I lift them high…for you.