Wind Dance

I hear the beginnings of you and I turn; a whisper in my ear, a caress gently across my neck, tossling my hair. The tug on my shoulder catches my attention as I turn to go in. Turning back towards you I seek. My eyes follow you up a trail as if I had traversed it before– up to you I glance and become still as my eyes settle. Waiting. What do you want to tell me? I rush in, “Help me. Help me.” Your gentleness strengthens in gusts, swaying, moving in and around the evergreens that surround me, protect me. Like a dance, they invite me in with each extending branch. I remain still. You come closer and wrap your gentle force around me pressing on my back, my shoulders, my torso, the space between my legs. Yet I try to remain still, as if strong, impervious. Your rustling hushes my plea, enwrapped around me, holding me closely as I cry. Shoulders caving. “Help me.” Deep breathes quiet my fragility. Fresh crisp air wipes away my tears. You slowly peak in strength and release your grasp around me as my breathe moves with the ebb and flow of the dance we create above and around me. The crescendo of the dance, I gasp, and the unrelenting end. I am left where I was, turning towards home. I raise my head once more. My pleas quieted, unanswered. I wait. And I wait some more. I turn to go inside. You close the door.

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