The Wind Poem by Paul Jonathan Stertz

The wind blows cold upon the hill
Chilling my heart-colder still.
The wind and I have a pact, you see;
I know it-and It knows me.

A fitting place for a rendezvous,
Amid the graves and silent tombs
Among the dead it howls and blows
The hard stones unknowing of what I know.

Unfeeling, uncaring and unafraid,
It can't see in me what a friend It's made
I have become cold end empty too
Like the wind that rends me through and through.

The frigid night and twirling snow
The wind as it whistles seems to show
Fears, hopes, and dreams whipping around
Like the branches of trees high above the ground.

Searches my soul from the outside in,
Knows who I am and where I've been
I'll feel It-embrace It-welcome It home
Until the cold wind blows o'er my bones.