Then the Wind Comes...
The son comes home
He mumbles a greeting
He climbs the stairs
He starts the same routine
The youngest returns
Her small steps are heavy
Her presence is obvious
Her destruction lays behind her
And then the wind comes
As silent as she can
She breezes through the door
She calls a greeting
But a mere whisper is heard
The mother calls her children
Two come running
The third isn't noticed
But the wind is there
Mother starts conversing
The eldest starts boasting
His university brains apparent
The youngest starts complaining
Her whining voice piercing
The wind whispers
But no words are heard
The brains disappears
But his voice remains echoing
His anger apparent
'The cheating scum are back' he calls
But the affection he still receives
The spoilt brat is back
Her mess strewn across the floor
Her voice exceeds everything
Battling for top volume
But mother doesn't disturb
A noise is heard
The rumbling of a stereo
An empty room at the top of the house
Lays empty where the wind lives
No one trespasses here
It's bedtime again
The eldest is bid goodnight
The youngest tucked into bed
But the wind has already retired
So mother doesn't bother
Morning has come
The rush begins
The brains is in the bathroom
For the last half an hour
The brat is still sleeping
Ignoring urgent calls
The wind is already half out the door
When mother calls
'But it was a mistake'
Thought the wind
Mother doesn't call
She dismisses the farewell
That the wind has left behind
And moves on to the child
And suddenly the wind is there
It's presence is still weak
But the whisper is now a voice
Her being is now noticed
The wind now has a face
Half covered as she glances down
Hair falling like a curtain
Her movements are no longer silent
As her shoes scuff the floor
Her slouched figure too lazy to pick up her feet
'Amy' A voice calls
The wind looks up
No longer half faced
But her guard is up
The fame soon disappears
The day has become still
No wind is here
But no one notices
The wind has a face
The wind has a voice
The wind has a presence
But the wind is forgotten
Unimportant in this life
Without meaning
Or direction
The wind is lost
And I am the wind...
He mumbles a greeting
He climbs the stairs
He starts the same routine
The youngest returns
Her small steps are heavy
Her presence is obvious
Her destruction lays behind her
And then the wind comes
As silent as she can
She breezes through the door
She calls a greeting
But a mere whisper is heard
The mother calls her children
Two come running
The third isn't noticed
But the wind is there
Mother starts conversing
The eldest starts boasting
His university brains apparent
The youngest starts complaining
Her whining voice piercing
The wind whispers
But no words are heard
The brains disappears
But his voice remains echoing
His anger apparent
'The cheating scum are back' he calls
But the affection he still receives
The spoilt brat is back
Her mess strewn across the floor
Her voice exceeds everything
Battling for top volume
But mother doesn't disturb
A noise is heard
The rumbling of a stereo
An empty room at the top of the house
Lays empty where the wind lives
No one trespasses here
It's bedtime again
The eldest is bid goodnight
The youngest tucked into bed
But the wind has already retired
So mother doesn't bother
Morning has come
The rush begins
The brains is in the bathroom
For the last half an hour
The brat is still sleeping
Ignoring urgent calls
The wind is already half out the door
When mother calls
'But it was a mistake'
Thought the wind
Mother doesn't call
She dismisses the farewell
That the wind has left behind
And moves on to the child
And suddenly the wind is there
It's presence is still weak
But the whisper is now a voice
Her being is now noticed
The wind now has a face
Half covered as she glances down
Hair falling like a curtain
Her movements are no longer silent
As her shoes scuff the floor
Her slouched figure too lazy to pick up her feet
'Amy' A voice calls
The wind looks up
No longer half faced
But her guard is up
The fame soon disappears
The day has become still
No wind is here
But no one notices
The wind has a face
The wind has a voice
The wind has a presence
But the wind is forgotten
Unimportant in this life
Without meaning
Or direction
The wind is lost
And I am the wind...