The wind whispered to me today; at first I didn't understand.
So gentle was its voice, but as I moved with the sound,
as I closed my eyes and let it wrap itself around me,
I moved into its dance, became one with its touch, felt its plea,
its song of love, its longing to be loved in return.
How many times has it kissed my cheek,
slid its fingers through my hair,
only to have me brush away its caress?
Today was different. I stopped long enough to be present.
It called me by name as it twisted and turned,
danced and sang. How beautiful the sound.
Why had I not heard this before? Have I been deaf
to all the songs of nature: the rain, the snow, the rivers.
Do they all sing this song or whisper these same words of love?
I will listen, listen with all my senses.
I will stand in a field of grass with my bare feet,
allow its softness to ripple through me, lay down in a stream
while the water has its way, caressing, loving, cleansing.
I will gaze at the firmament while the world sleeps and
lose myself in the magnificence of it all, to hear this much love
from the earth, from the very air that we breathe, to be immersed
in this love till it flows out of every pore. Then I am one.
Now I understand this oneness, this desire to hurt nothing,
To join in the song, to have every movement, every word, every action
harmonize and sing of love in recognition of this oneness.
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I live in Riverdale, right beside the North Saskatchewan River. I walk out of my home to the many beautiful trails, sights and sounds that create a passion in me to write many poems, of beauty, of inspiration, of pain. When my son died, the pain poured out through my fingers and when the sun shone again, I wrote in gratitude of all the years I spent with him. My writings now have an urgency to them knowing how fleeting life can be.