Natures breath.

Silent and invisible,

but seen and heard in limitless guises.

Baking under a summer sun,


a woman sighs happily,

as the benevolent breeze,

coolly kisses away dewdrops of sweat.

With invisible fingers,

a mischievous miscreant,

lifts and tousles,


tangling and ruffling tresses of silken hair.

Dust devils become twirling playmates,


to giggling, cavorting children.

Angry tornadoes lash the ground,


uprooting trees and bringing forth bedlam.

A hurricane whips up innocent seas,

holding hostage the ocean’s power,


 thrusting it forth in mass destruction.

Emotions are the winds of our soul.

We give them voice,

and feed them energy.

Benevolent gusts of happiness,

whispered whirlwinds of love,

squalls of sadness.

The turbulent temper of a twister,

or the furious anger of a hurricane,

 sends our thunderous hurt traversing the landscape of our lives.

Over the winds of nature we have no dominion,

unlike the winds of our soul…

…when there are moments…

we can choose.


They can have power over us,

or we can have power over them.