Wind at midnight

So, I wrote this poem on March 10, 2011 — earlier this year.  Weird how “this year” will soon turn to “last year.”  Time can sure be scary.

Anyway, this poem describes perfectly, I think, what I was feeling.  Mind you, the “wind” I speak of wasn’t necessarily a beautiful thing.  It was my conscience, my God, speaking to me, trying to get my attention.  I was depressed — REALLY depressed — and I blocked Him out.  But for some reason, I wrote this poem.  I didn’t know what the “wind” was.  I had no idea, really.  But I knew it was important.  So here it is.  And I know what it is, now.

 

The wind blows through

my mind;

 

Sometimes it comes

at midnight,

When I can’t fall asleep;

 

It comes subtly at first,

like a raindrop

 

And translucent

And misty,

 

And sometimes I don’t notice.

 

Other times, it’s a flood —

it drenches me

And I cannot breathe.

 

One day maybe I’ll awake

And I’ll understand

what it has to tell me.

 

Emilino

Picture courtesy www.desicomments.com.

Advertisements

2 responses to “Wind at midnight

  1. Pingback: Poem: She Marched On « Three Sixty

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s