The Answer My Friend..

The whispering wind is full of sounds
of storm cloud laden darkened skies.
Of Gods of old, and thunderbolts,
and softly spoken slithering sighs.

The flavoured wind is full of smells
of earth and smoke and splendid blooms.
Of salt and spice, and paradise,
and foul, pervasive, putrid fumes.

The blinding wind is full of sights
that one must close their eyes to see.
Torn up trees and bumblebees
and strong men forced to take the knee.

The gentle wind, its sweet caress,
it stirs up more than memory.
Of a lover's breath, and certain death
and all your life will ever be.