He Is Like The Wind In The Trees Poem by Chris Ernest Nelson

My imagination reaches
beyond this flesh
into the place of wonder
that shatters our glass of hope
and unhinges our longings.

Life is eternal;
it moves through these bodies of ours
like a wind moves through the trees.
For a bounding moment there are
flashings and turnings,
dark closings and radiant openings.

For a swirling moment there are
tempers and temptations,
faint whimpers and rolling laughters.
For a sweet moment there is
absolute confidence in what is to come.

He is like the wind
in the trees.
Love is the song of pounding leaves.
It is the shout of straining branches.
It is the root clinging to the earth.
The wind stirs and gives life.