Wind Dancer Poem by Chelsea Crisman

I stand outside and breathe in.
They are such calm, cool, soothing breaths.
My lungs fill with the damp kissed air.
My hair is teased by the quiet breeze.
Out here, peace is beauty.
And beauty…is everything.

In this dark, I feel no worry.
Deep blackness holds the moon behind the clouds.
Watch closely; see the sky fly past!
My heart beats with new life.
My soul screams with the purest excitement.
It's as if I've found myself at last.

My arms lift in a joyous embrace of the softest zephyr.
As my head lolls back, I laugh into the light kisses of Jupiter.
This is my dance, and I know the steps.
The wind is tugging and pulling and shoving and hugging.
I feel the slight drops of rain on my body.
My smile widens and I know I am free.

I am free to fly through this tempest.
The drizzle is delicate upon my skin.
It's the gale that challenges and encourages me, though.
With every gust I am rejuvenated and found anew.
My body is one with this storm and I now know who I am.
I am a memory; a memory of the wind dancer.