The Wind

The wind is always with us.
Spinning on and on, shaking
the leaves of the trees outside
our homes. Most times the wind
is pleased. With us. With the way
things are. Come to terms with it,
you know. Once in a while
her anger overwhelms her
though and she is forced to be
terrible, horrid to people and
families, unholy to holy places,
torrential to all in her path. If
you listen, you can hear her
helmsman in the clouds
cheering each other on,
to new heights, new depths,
new lengths of tragedy.
"We'll cruise on in straight
for the cities!" they cry. Usually
the land slackens their sails and
nothing major happens in
the most populated places.
Mark you, it's no coincidence
that the wind has been getting
madder and madder over
the years, as we ourselves
descend into heretofore
unknown trenches of
gluttony and self concern.
With all our new lows,
the wind is going to be
forced into a rage from which
none of us can hide.
The comforting sound of
the wind in the trees will
become for once and for all
the sound of all furies and
our shelter will be ripped
from its roots to ensure
no one survives.

(2007)