Wind crashes through the window in violent waves, washing over my body. It takes no prisoners, and it does not knock. Blowing back the curtains it exposes me to the night, forcing me to look at the stars burning behind gray clouds and darkness.
This is a wind that makes the trees ache, sweeps clean the streets, and slithers into homes through holes in unwatched stones. Forces its way inside of me. Makes even the puddles and ponds tempestuous seas. Forces me to forget the pins and needles keeping me from being free, fiery, messy.
This is a wind that takes the nearly burnt out ends and makes them sweeping wildfires. The one that presses at the sails and sends me slicing through the waters.
It brings change without asking permission. Picks up the places I've been and puts them places I'll go. Sending scents of lost loves and changing seasons. Reminding me to be a force of nature, the insistent whisper of something stronger. The cooling kiss in a silent storm.