The ferocious wind
whips through tree branches.
I close my eyes and imagine
it’s a dark and supernatural wind
blowing civilization into oblivion.
The wind is singing, howling, and rushing.
The sound is perfect, superb, and beautiful.
Into the ocean deep mind, I descend
remembering ancient days.
It is summoning the anarchy
that burns in my soul.
Where’s an escape
that leads to the past?
Hi Nat. I think you would realy enjoy a series of books “Raincoast Chronicles”. They are all about the west coast of Canada with lots of Indian lore, poetry, and just plain interesting stuff.
,
This poem could be about the west coast, all that is missing is the thunder of the waves pounding the shore, something you feel as much as hear.
Very nice Nate…
Much feeling and beautiful images…
DSD