When the Wind Howls | Still
- Jul 10
- 1 min read
When the wind howls, the wind howls.
Tree limbs sway and bend as though they might snap.
Sound is a thousand monkeys echoing through the forest.
Clouds race overhead, a train of thoughts that never finds the last station.
Air presses against the skin, piercing straight through the body.
Waves turn restless.
Fast.
Frothy.
The choppy unknown.
And in all of it...
The wind is simply doing what the wind does.
The sand still stays on the beach.
The trees still stay rooted in the ground.
The earth keeps turning.
The stars keep shining.
"The moon does not fight the current."
— Zen proverb
dirt first.
everything else is a surprise.
— Spunky Mind
