A Warning from the Wind

The wind has always whispered to me

In dreams and visions,

Voices guiding my path,

Lighting the way,

Securing my destiny.

And I have always followed,

Sometimes joyfully,

Others with dragging feet

Like a stubborn child.

It blew across fields,

Heads of golden wheat bowed,

Scaled towering mountains,

Crossed choppy seas

To tell me stories of time tangled prairie towns,

Exotic towers of steel,

Smiling lovers,

And now I must learn how to make 2 into 1,

And still the wind whispers urgently

Of desolate northern places,

Children forlorn,

And how can I make 2 into 1,

And still follow the wind with the same gypsy cadence

I once had?

But when I consider making compromises,

Deviating from the destined path,

My dreams become nightmares,

And how can I sleep?

I perched high in the pines,

And below an old woman with hair braided,

Silver with the wisdom of years gone by,

Carefully treading a familiar path,

Wrapped in a shawl, and in her hand

A raven feather held up in reverence,

And me in my foolishness of defying the fates,

I squat unceremoniously

And defecate on her from my sky-view branch,

And she looks up at me with eyes that have seen the ages,

Sad eyes, disapproving,

Never speaking a word,

And in that instant

I awake in a sweat,

Wondering how I can make 2 into 1

And still follow the wind.