The Wind Poem by Rosi Caswell

The Wind



The wind he howls like a banshee through the trees
With no respect for ought in his way.
Fighting and thrashing with the leaves
Who smile, falling gracefully to ground,
Where they lie, to die and be trodden
Underfoot by human and beast alike.
Until they become broken and sodden,
But only ‘til the seasons turn
And the sun, she comes to bring re-birth,
Whilst the wind he hibernates.
Until the circle turns, and once more, it is his – the earth.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
I am an Animal Whisperer, Animal Human Therapist, and Metaphysical Counsellor. My writings encompass all subjects within these areas. I aim to provide something for everyone to take away from any or all of my poems and sayings. Much Love and Peace to all. Rosi X
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Captain Cur 28 April 2013

I liked your poem. Life, death, rebirth. Good write.

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