Wind

Wind, today I can hear you;
in the flutter of golden leaves
you rain down from liquid amber,
in the swaying of eucalypt and jacaranda,
in the dangling danger of palm fronds.

And now you want me to see you.
You push over gum boots and throw
garden gloves across the veranda.
You push past my cheeks and blow the quiet
roar of the ocean into my ears.

And now you demand more attention.
Your swishes and swooshes and rustles
are no longer enough. You howl and growl
and rumble from the skin of the earth
to say the world is yours.

And it is, Wind.
The world is yours today.