The trade winds blow, shaking their souls
quaking through the canopies; necks and trunks
whip and lash…
Rising up-racking, building tension
escalating in cleansing saltwater sky
that weeps and purifies, absorbed.
Shared with the earth.
An everyday occurrence-that appears from nowhere.
It seems normally rare, the current passes quickly still
there lingering with explosive force, held tight in calm evening air.
Moving like a phantom; an evaporating apparition,
the mirage-leaving no trace, yet even still-
made anew.
Holding on its back the steamy hot mist
carried on the verge, a balanced cups of tears.
Shifting of power, tilting the scales.
A release of struggle- temporal in state
the come and go electric emotion charge
the trade winds will always blow...
Image credit:By Rosendahl [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
