The Wind and the Willow

So I am free as the wind.
Does not the wind long to dance with the willow?
To kiss the sail on the mouth
or caress the grassy bosom of the plains?


Does not he wish
to bear the sparrow in loving arms,
to speak softly to the pines?
And would he not indulge the graceful nape of the maples neck
with a gentle hand?


***


Should the wind whisper sonnets
and the songs of lovers
in the most demure of voices
or rise with a furious passion
to fell the mighty
is it not still the same wind?
And is it not one and the same,
the breath that extinguishes the candles light
yet fans the forest fire?


I am alive as a gale;
lean into me.
I am as docile as the breeze
on an early summer evening porch
that summons the goosebumps;
let me embrace you.