To The Wind Poem by Indira Renganathan

Hey Messenger, what do you do
Traversing along hill and land and water
Simply pretending to construe
Waving shapeless hither and thither

Kindler of fire, collector of clouds
Aeonic by command natural
Kindler of bombers, collector of tears
In breaths of humans, aren't you unnatural

Hey Messenger, what do you do
Messaging along of love and hate
Simply pretending to be true
Hailing and wailing in conspiring haste

Call your Messiah, I shall ask
Your celestiality be checked up
Of your split hearts He shall hark
Hey Messenger, retort, don't simply pass up