The northwest wind vies for my attention.
Howling? No. Screaming? No.
Incessant begging and pleading,
“Loooook at meeeeeee.”
Knocks on all my walls.
Bangs on every window pane.
I gaze out the window.
I’m looking. I see. Yes, you are mighty.
My quiet lake turns up white caps.
Last leaves desperately cling to bent boughs.
It finds it’s way through tiny crevices exposed
Finally, I step outside.
I stand in it’s path, let it pass through my hair
my thin jacket, my bones.
Yes, you are powerful.
Wind still blows.
But now content sighs ease through cracks,
happy to be in control.
Because I cannot stop the wind.