Wind Thoughts

 I too love the wind dearly – after all it gives the sweetest love; my hair tries to flee my scalp in the onslaught of fierce gusty passion. But no matter how it makes me swoon, the wind leaves me intact and drunk with breathless joy to be alive.

   Somebody in another story here confessed that she speaks to the wind. Kudos to her.  This is the wisest practice I have heard of in some time. The wind is trying to teach us its language, and it welcomes our funny, awkwardly tongued side of the exchange. If its only response is a rustle of dry leaves along a street or the wakening of wind-chimes, no matter; I think we ought to keep speaking and listening. Someday we may understand what it tells us.

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26-30
1 Response Feb 17, 2010

Breathless joy to be alive. That is another thing the wind makes me feel. Ahh. =D<br />
And kudos to me! Haha, thanks! I wouldn't consider myself wise, though, just outlandish and open to anything. I think we should all stop to appreciate the wind, even if we will never understand it. I feel that I don't need to understand it, it being here is all I need, really.