The Wind that Whispers

The Wind that Whispers

The wind that whispers through the night
The things you dare not hear—
But how oft it preys upon your fears
Of the things that cause you fright.

The racing in your chest—your worries do ignite
Its long jagged reach cuts you through
As you consider if their lies be true –
When all else in your life seems but blight.

Clasping your hands over your ears –
Trying to shut all this madness out!
But even the tested and the devout,
Will find it difficult to persevere.

Oh the wicked wind how it howls,
Scrapping the branches onto your house
Amplifying fears as they rouse
When everything outside seems foul.

The shriek of terror outside
While the violent clamors rise—
To herald our hope’s demise,
And to demand truths subside.

But pinning toward a faint sound,
I hear the slightest glimmer of hope
While terrors outside do abound –
A still voice in the wind helps me cope.

Against the terrors of the night,
Against the darkest of my fears—
I strain my hears now to hear
That Love will keep me safe tonight.

Greg Butz
3-22-09

I hadn’t written a poem in a while, and it’s been even longer since I’ve written one of quality. I’m afraid I haven’t the opportunity to refine this one to make it more impactful. I’ve been listening to the booming of the wind too often, without pausing to recognize the still small voice – beckoning to me. There is hope despite madness, instead of sucumbing to the darkness, lets sucumb to the light.