Call Of The Wind

CALL OF THE WIND

The Wind
Oh The Wind
On the ear of night
it blows

The Wind
Oh the Wind
On the breath of going
It Passes

Sighing, the Wind
whispers of the passes,
of the path it takes...

"I'm a travelling
Friend, my friend...
On the breeze we'll go!

Gently tugging all ties away
In gusts in leaves
the desire to stay
Cold on the grounded hills.

"Sweeping on !
Sweeping on !
Are you coming?"
It sighs
"Are you coming"
It moans.

Softly, it
breaths it,
sighs:
" TIME"
Time passes...
......Time, it's passing...

.............. TIME ..................
... ......... Now is the time !

" Come, come"
It puffs away
"I won't be blowing
on another day.

"Come, come,
we'll a-whither go,
without weight on the earth
or bonds below."

"Come with the wind
and blow!
We can go anyplace
we'll go!"

" Come, Come,
Come with the wind!
Pick up you feet and go!"




Wayne David Knoll © 1988
Bridge Street, Trentham, Victoria

In 1993 I dedicated this to my children Timshel, Shalome & Dylan. It is so wonderful to break free of baggage, and to leave unwonted weight behind. There is a pull that also come with a decided push: a dissatisfaction with the way things are. The Holy Ghost is no mere zeitgeist, no seven-year itchwind of irresponsibility, but an inner voice, a call to intiative, to go with an imaginative vision of what could be, a breath of ingenius gift. And, Australia is the unpredictable land of jests and jesters, resourceful, wily, gamblers with God. Many of these would never admit to a spiritual desire. Others, others are religious without a breath. It is the forceful hallowing breath that takes out of our own rut.