Women of the Winds

You are to me my North Wind,

Icy and bracing and full of life,

You touch me with a trace of frost, with a glimpse at diamonds,

And everything about you is ferocious,

Nothing is steady,

I freeze in your whirlwind and feel alive.

And you, you are the East Wind in my life,

Warm and exotic, infused with spice,

The saffron flavour,

The touch of silk,

You belong to earth,

To tornadoes and sandstorms and blazing sunsets.

Your colours stretch over me and paint me a new man.

And you, my pristine West Wind,

My Fairy Wind,

My Fey lover,

You who have the glitter of privilege,

The heart of a lion,

The grace and unreality of a unicorn.

I can never be sure if you really exist,

But the image of you is so faultless, so perfect, so convincing;

Whatever you are on paper, whoever in flesh;

You are stardust in my soul.

And you, my gentle Southern Breeze,

My last Wind,

I have not forgotten you.

I have learnt to dance with you,

And I have learnt warm kisses and peace, and balance,

All from having known you.

You have tiptoed through my life, barely stirring the leaves,

Barely rippling the water when the moon looks in the mirror.

I’ve loved you all, my women of the wind.

I’ll blow away, as all dust does,

But with me I’ll take the glitter of icicles,

The heat of the desert,

The aroma of perfume,

The fluttering kiss of unpainted lips.

And I hope you can each take a little of me with you when I go.

Picture credit/discredit: author's own work