Is it possible to see the wind?
Or just the swaying of the branches,
The twirling of the leaves,
The swirling of the sand as it whips
Across the flats,
The clouds in swift flight,
Or cottonwood dreamseeds
Drifting at twilight,
The swell of the sea,
And the dancing sheets of rain
As they morph
Through open sky
Or is the wind written
On the insides of the trees?
Split trunks clean-cut lengthwise
Show me what happens
When she sways
Swirls and fluid currents
In grain
The endless dance of wind
Or do I see the river here?
Its steady heavy flow
Exploring every hump
And hole of Earth
As whirlpools hum
And well
From far below
The rhythms of your growth
Are written in your aching body
And in the flood that was your life
I see the wind
Kester Reid 