The wind comes on unseen rails.
Going where it wants.
Not paying no never mind
To anything anyone wants or owns.
How does the wind get so powerful?
When sometimes it is not shown.
Where does it go?
How does it get here?
Sometimes it plays gently.
Softly moving the grasses and leaves.
Sometimes it is so strong
Nothing can make it in its path.
Pray for soft winds.
Enough to move the sails along.
Without sinking the ships
Or marking the crying of the throngs.
©Patty
F. Cooper Elizabethton, Tennessee, October 14th, 2014
All Rights Reserved
