The wind is worried today,
restless spirit, touching here
touching there
unable to decide if he has whipped this landscape
enough for penance
or defrocked that tree sufficiently
that her completely bare and naked shape
is intimately acquainted with his touch.
He has knit his brows together in the clouds
concern an ever deepening wrinkle
that perhaps the work is not done
and never is.
So he strikes again, and Again, and AGAIN
at the weary world, as if to subdue it.
The sea fights back
with angry white swells that batter boats
as if to subdue them
and the boats bang the docks
as if to subdue them.
The work is not done.
And no one is free.
.
.
.
.
And his name is Santa Ana.
ReplyDeleteI love this view of the wind's personality. It fits beautifully!
Gorgeous descriptive nuance of the wind's personality. A bit like life is it not? Battering and relentless, gorging our spirits raw. Missed you sweet friend. A calm always arrives in every storm. (Hugs)Indigo
ReplyDeleteThe wind blows wherever it pleases.
ReplyDeleteWe do not understand its ways.
Of course, sometimes it seems very human,
and we think we understand,
think we catch a glimpse of fury or...
pettiness.
@ Jo - Oh yes, the Santa Ana Winds. We writers (holy shit, did I just call myself a writer???) give personality to things that have none. It's fun, and would simply be a text book write without it. Thank you!
ReplyDelete@ Indigo - Hello dear friend. I was so afraid I had offended you, I haven't heard from you in so long. I hope you are feeling well, doing well. Forgive my caution in not asking.
@ Andreas - Oh, we never fully understand. The textbook of life continues to flip, page by page, and our eyes pressed into the knowing.
We got 40 mph Santa Ana winds last night here in LA so your poem is quite fitting. But I love the images of nature never tamed. It's times like this I remember just how small we really are.
ReplyDeleteFantastic imagery, Annie. Well done!
personification of the wind and i wonder how much of you is personified by the wind. or so it goes, doesn't it? no one thing is ever one thing.
ReplyDeletemy world was metaphorically windy today. oh, in fact, it was actually windy the other day, too. i remember just now. i was on a bridge and i rose up and faced it. ha! it died down. as it did today, as well. perhaps we always need to face the wind?
xo
erin
I always love it when writers personify the wind. It never gets old. The wind was alive ten years ago and just as much today. We feel it just as thoroughly as our parents and grandparents. Oh, thee, eternal themes! :)
ReplyDeleteI fell in love with the wind long ago… and forgive any battering caused or blamed… Enjoyed…
ReplyDeleteIt seems we are all having big winds. The wind tore some of the siding off my house today.
ReplyDeleteThis is a very stirring poem. I love the image of the wind whipping the landscape for penance. I wonder how many people feel, like the land, that their mere presence calls for punishment.
Your eye tells so many stories with out you even speaking a word. Interesting.
ReplyDeleteI watched the wild California winds on the news last night and I laughed with glee at the people's comments. We deal regularly with hurricanes, floods, tornadoes, alligators, snakes and spiders here in Louisiana and I felt a little superior to those whining Californians for the first time ever. Wussies. ;-)
ReplyDelete(Present company excepted, of course. You're an honorary Louisiana coonass by virtue of your swamp-tromp with poor Ray). Love you!!
@ Tracy - Sheesh, our wind was 25mph and I thought that was WAY enough. 40! Thank goodness you've got good hair for wind. I too, feel small.
ReplyDelete@ Erin - Yes, I think we should face the wind. Sometimes I think the wind is myself. In fact I'm pretty sure it is. The mirror is a tornado.
@ Ben - Like I said, "never done". The wind will always have it's work to do. Eternal themes. They are important, no?
@ Anthony - I'm glad the wind is loved by someone. It isn't me. I don't like the wind at all, unless I am sailing. How selfish is that?
@ Kass - A big piece of someone's gutter was in the street in front of our house. I looked to see if it was mine, but our house seems intact. Interesting question you ask!
@ Travis - The eyes are very telling. So many small muscles around them, our whole face really, has a thousand complicated expressions.
@ Marion - Oh of course we are wimps in California. We don't deal with snow, or hurricanes, or tornados, or any rough weather at all. We whine when it is 60 degrees (which we call freezing) and whine when it is 95 degrees (which we call scortching). We have small bugs and little humidity. You are superior. I should be the president of California Wind and Weather Wussies, LOL. (I love my honarary title!)
PS: My official tent-camping Indian name is "She Who Hears the Wind". Poor Ray's is "He Who Drops Weinnie in Fire." (Long, funny story there.)
ReplyDeletei missed the winds here. but heard about them. this is the best description so far, by far.
ReplyDeletei'm staying at a place in which "the work" is pretty much everything. they are religious people, to an extent, and feed poor people in skid row. becuz of the language i hear here, i read religion into this piece of yours.
@ Marion - Oh how I laughed. You. Ray. Lol!
ReplyDelete@ Ed - Because God is in everything I write. Not religion per say, but my language with God, which is conversational and attempting to be much more honest. You can have the wind! It irritates the heck out of me.
If the wind could only just blow the damn problems away, this is a masterpiece and I am with you a 100%
ReplyDeletethe work is not done and noone is free...
ReplyDeleteyou move me.
@ Lorraine - You are a masterpiece. Look at you...so determined and strong!
ReplyDelete@ Dana - Thanks girl. I see you on FB, but I'm really not there much. Thanks for stopping by. Hope things are going well with you!