I left the window open, and the wind has come up. It is blowing the pleated drop-down shade, and the wind touches my face softly.
They are all asleep. I don’t sleep much some nights, and as I sit here in my bed, my only conversation is with the keyboard and the wind.
She flows into my quiet room, waking me with her cool caress. Is she trying to tell me something? Maybe if I listen with a whisper of mystic I will hear.
The last time I was in Hawaii the windows were open and the wind blew through the room. Tonight, it is like that. The wind is sultry and damp, and powerful gusts make the shades tap against the window pane. I wonder if I will ever find peace? The wind seems to be at peace, although she is not always peaceful. Sometimes she is the balmy island breeze, other times and places she is the hurricane that churns up the seas and tears down the trees.
I love the wind. She is powerful, and invisible, but her touch is magical.