Taking Wind As Love
J. Marshall Jenkins

I remember the wind
that caressed my brow
when I could not yet walk well.
Sitting in the stroller
in hot, sticky Montgomery,

I watched the air
until it moved,
which I took as love
without hands,
without a face,
without words,
and in time —
and time was always long then —
wind came
gently or, better,
in playful gusts,
and I took it as love.

Since then I have walked
to couches where
hypnotic screens showed
cars fly in twisters
and roofs dive in hurricanes.
I have crab-walked
in crawl-space
and listened
to driving rain
in angry wind,
as anxious sirens
chided me for ever
taking wind as love.

Yet, even as I read news
the next morning
of destruction all around,
time moves faster now,
and it does not take long
to recall — just the other day —
waking up
from work and worry
to wind
passing over waters
to play with me,
cooling my brow,
dancing with trees, 

and I know it is love.

Related Post

Knowing Wind

Image: “Baby Boy in a Buggy,” by Petr Kratochvil, Public Domain.

Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God (Matthew 5:8).