A ship in a bottle

sailing away 

into the night,

flag floating in the wind.

The edge of the earth

so near in sight

and yet I yearn

for any sign of light

to lessen my sorrows.

Oh, how I wish

for warmth to take hold of my skin

wrapping me up tight.

Sunlight beaming down on me

as I sway in the wind

with the same rhyme 

of the trees.

Flowers in my hair

as I call to the wind,

“I hear you,

I feel you,

I know that you’re there.”

And she calls back,

“My love washes over you, my dear!

You take notice in my gifts 

and I shall too take notice in yours!”

I pressed on,

“Oh, beauty of the wind

where is the warmth?

I cannot seem to find

the warmth of love 

in this cold, dark time.”

“I dream of the warm wind,

and yet, I am met with cold.

I wait,

and I listen,

and I feel,

and I wish,

and yet all that follows

is the cold wind’s wraith.”

I push forward,

parting the sea of wind 

that always seems 

to cling to me,

“But your beauty is not there.

Frigid winds slice my eyes,

and whip through my hair.”

“I am plundering in such sorrow

and yet you do not seem to care.”

“Oh but you aren’t truly looking,” 

she insisted,

“When my winter breeze

 moves your eyes to tears,

it only gives you a reason

to moisten your cold stare,”

“When I toss your hair from side to side,

I only help you

to perform a dance 

with the sky.”

You look,

but you do not truly see 

the gifts 

that are there for you 

from me.

Open your eyes to the wind 

and you will find 

the warmth

that the cold leaves behind.