The Wind in the Trees

Posted by on May 12, 2017 in Blog | No Comments

Another creative outlet that I enjoy is writing poetry which I started last year. I had taken a creative writing poetry class in college over 25 years ago but hadn’t written anything since then. My topics are varied but frequently are inspired by nature or an idea may start to percolate while I’m running in nature. It seems like life gets busy and I never have enough time to write (or read, or paint, or do a myriad of other things) and that is why I thought sharing a poem today would be a good idea. Poetry slows down time. Writing it or reading it requires the simple act of time and space to observe and feel. I thought this poem was a good reminder to slow down and enjoy the present.

The Wind in the Trees

At 7:00 am the wind in the trees was so loud
It sounded like a freeway.
But as cars were far from my mind I started thinking
It sounded like the ocean.
Waves crashing loudly, constantly, and the three of us realizing
We needed to get out quickly.
You taking her because you’re stronger
And us trying to time it right but the sea rhythms were too angry
And we just had to guess as best we could.
We made it ashore as I knew we would
Although my bikini bottoms almost didn’t.
I would have welcomed that offering to the ocean
If she had needed something from me that day.

At 7:30 am the wind in the trees was so loud
It sounded like a deafening waterfall.
I thought of those two sweet sisters far from home
With adventure and dirty clothes and so much hope crammed into their backpacks
Anticipating that this journey, partly well planned but allowing for enough spontaneity,
was merely a beginning.
I didn’t know them,
But they were dear to my friend.

At 8:00 am the wind in the trees was so loud
It sounded like hard rain that is impossible to ignore.
The kind of rain that gives you pause whatever you are doing.
It rained like that on my honeymoon one night.
The thatched roof wailed
While the once welcoming māhū French Polynesian waiter screamed
As the blood red deluge of my spilled wine cascaded down
His elegant white tablecloth.

At 8:30 am the wind in the trees was so loud
It sounded like an orchestra.
I tuned in right at the crescendo.
It was part symphony, part performance art. Not to be missed!
And I silently apologized for falling asleep when my parents
Took me to see Yehudi Menuhin as a child.

At 9:00 am the wind in the trees was so loud
I wondered if the birds were sleeping in today.
Did they get up to start their day and realize it was pointless?
Maybe a few ventured out to see what they could see.
For a moment I felt like I was surely flying
And I believe I saw one compatriot in the sky.

At 9:30 am the wind in the trees was so loud
I simply listened.
I heard the trees
I heard my breath
I heard the silence
It was exquisite.

At 10:00 am the freeway noise was so loud
It sounded like the wind in the trees.