Blowing A Windsong Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Hollow sounds coming from a windsong blowing it's way
through the atmosphere, wandering, alone, contented
with things as they are.

Along comes a sing song melody, tip toeing across in-
terior chords, playing a different tune through an in-
herent and intuitive scheme of innate talent.

Nothing can compare with the intensity of all that is
being brought forth in moments of ingenuity, while
collapsing the old.

Unfolding, touching beauty that's been hiding below the
surface, rhythms caressing and titillating their essence
ceaselessly, never tiring, an energetic feeling that keeps
on spurting into the future.