About the Poem
The winds of chance blow us about, and sometimes we must lean against the wind to go where we want to be. Longingly we reach out to grasp love.
Whispering wind ... calling my name ... I'll never be the same.
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|by Marge Tindal|
I hear them whisper your name,
those mighty winds that blow.
I know that you are close at hand,
the winds just told me so.
The direction from whence they blew,
I am not sure I know.
For only when I hear your name,
am I sure the winds did blow.
Caressing my face with a whisper ...
calling out your name,
the winds of delight entice me.
I will never be the same.
I will follow the singing wind.
where it leads me I do not know.
For the winds that blew you from me ...
will take me where I must go.
Upward into the hills,
calmly across the sea,
Hold on my love, I'm coming ...
The wind has beckoned me.
Free to wander and search this earth,
no matter how far that may be.
Free to follow the whispering wind ...
until it blows me back to thee.
I hear your laughter on the wind.
I try with all my might,
to reach out and touch you
on this windy night.
You must be getting closer
for I feel your whispered love.
I reach out my hand to you,
please find me, my sweet dove.
You grasp my hand in yours
and softly speak my name,
out of the whispering winds
We are together again.