Words on the Wind

Words on the wind

Wander the frozen ground,

Winding between the shivering trees and

Creeping across the huddled hedges,

Roll to the lacey ground.

Words on the ground

Tiptoe towards the house,

Crunching the fresh snow,

Pad carefully along the iced walk-way,

Almost slipping on the crumbling front steps,

Mount the ice-crusted porch and rap at the front door.

Words at the door

Wait impatiently for admission,

Shifting on the rickety front porch,

Peek into the dark front windows,

Finally duck beneath the door and slip into the slumbering house.

Words in the house

Comb the empty front foyer,

Search the darkened sitting room and the cold dinning room,

Glance at the faded family portraits before heading for the den.

I am seated in the den.

Wrapped in an old flannel blanket,

I respire before the fireplace.

I watch the dying flames cast watery shadows onto the floor.

Gone. Gone.

The words enter the room.

I raise my eyes from the shadows playing across the floor.

Gone. Gone.

The words repeat.

Passed. Passed. Mourn the death of the world.

“Must the world always die this time of year?”

I ask and my voice clamors in the midnight stillness.

Yes. Yes

The hushed reply.

The world must die before it can be renewed:

Its death must always proceed its birth.

Thus delivering the message,

Words take to the air and

Rise up the chimney.

Then spiraling down the ice-slicked roof,

Words fall onto the back of the waiting wind.

Words on the wind,

Herald of the seasons,

Cannot pause.

Words on the wind must be on the way.

There are too many to tell.

Too many to tell,

And such a wide world to wander.

……

R/R if you’d like to! (I’d like you to :)

DH