I Am The West Wind Poem by PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

i am the west wind
the wavy handiwork of the god
unlike the waves with chasms in their laps

i caress tender leaves and buds
to grow them up that they may stand against the north wind
in the future to their innocuous pasts

i play the messenger
unfolding the scroll that reads aloud
how the three lives are chained under the present light`s shroud

i bring life to the replica of lives
with my fife that expands
from the salty shore to a lonely moor

i spruce up the memory of empty vaults
with so many sprightly spring faults
what may shed their youth in torrid forgotten yawns

i will blow over at an opportune hour
with a jasmine sign of a melange flavor
with you musing over the mellifluous air