The Mighty Wind

In the beginning the sun shined for me

The birds sang and its song bounced off the spears of grass

A rose had blossomed;

Bright and scented.

The mighty wind tearing off my petals;

Flying in a whirlwind of chill;

Fast—scraping against branches.

Landing on river stones and taken by the high tide;

I floated, somehow the sun still…shining.

The strong wind blew;

But I twirled dancing in all my glory.

I was lifted from the waters by a small child

The wind tried once more;

But I was protected by sweet hands.

It laid me in the garden;

I rested and released the seed I desperately held onto;

With the wind howling with all its might;

I laid in the dirt content for I will be born again.

 

https://rosescripts.wordpress.com/2017/01/26/the-moon-sun/

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