In whispers soft or tempest's roar,
The wind's elusive path we can't explore,
From unknown realms, it comes to play,
And just as swiftly, it fades away.

A dance of breezes, wild and free,
Yet in its grasp, no control we see,
It weaves through trees with gentle grace,
Or rages on a furious chase.

Like life, it holds both joy and woe,
Its touch can lift or lay us low,
Unfettered by our wants or will,
It moves with purpose, mysterious still.

It enters as a welcome guest,
Yet leaves in chaos, at its behest,
With every gust, a tale untold,
A symphony of air, both hot and cold.

So let it roam, this restless wind,
In its passing, new journeys begin,
For in its wake, we find our breath,
And the promise of life, beyond all death.

.    .    .