Wednesday, January 30, 2013

My first poem of 2013 written this morning during the dawn

The Wind

The illustrious remembering prophesying wind
Sits atop the mountains and rests

Remembering tickling old wind chimes
Prophesying people filling with fear

Thinking laughing calling
Candidly sweeping hair out of Olden Eyes.

The wind
The illustrious wind

Whips down
Shakes the trees

Knocks on minds
And soothes crying babies.

All is good with the wind.

© MariJo Moore January 30, 2013


  1. from Barbara Braveboy-Locklear:
    Thank you, MariJo.

    Beautiful is your "Wind" poem. I love the imagery
    . . . I felt and heard the wind's breath as it blew and rose.