The Wind

The Wind

It’s the whistling wind,

Cozy in the corner,

Mind now swept away from my book,

And, drawn to the sound,

My imagination leaps up,

Up and away,

One glance more,

To the lines on the pages,

People with problems,

Solving issues in life,

But, I’m drawn,

Torn,

Distracted by the howling,

Wondering,

From where the wind came,

Where it is going,

And, why it draws me so,

That invisible source,

I see the effects,

Leaves dancing,

Tall grasses swaying,

All the colors of autumn,

The browns and beiges,

Reds, orange and yellow,

And, that blue, blue sky,

That’s it!

I’m drawn to heaven,

Because,

Heaven it is!

Peter Lowell Paulson

November 6, 2019