Where Will It Take My Soul

 Rattling the windows,

thrusting against the door,

pushing dust across the floor,

roaring through the trees,

disconnecting the leaves,

flowing through the long grasses,

making them wave as it passes,

the wind blows in a whimsical motion

while it bellows and howls.

Through the surface water it trowels. 

Heavy wind chimes clanging making a familiar sound.

Dirt particles whirl upward above the open ground

as the wind swirls all around.

Brushing strokes push against my face and twirl my hair.

The wind blows seemingly without care.

Steadily gusting it touches all that stands in its' existence

hurling with great insistence. 

I stand in its wake and I take a deep breath.

I wonder where it will take my soul to rest.