Cardinal Directions

 

Birds chirp overhead, brightly colored things,

 

Fragile creatures with songs of summer in their throats.

 

Wind rustles the paper thin leaves overhead,

 

Leaves the color of blood and sunset,

 

Colors of winter with the smell of freshly turned Earth.

 

The hope of spring gives life through the chill of winter.

 

Wind caresses my frozen tears, delicate crystals upon

 

A pale, fragile cheek.

 

 

The Northern wind slices cold through my warm veins,

 

Stealing the breath from my lungs.

 

Time stands still, a fly caught in the spider's trap.

 

Icy breath caresses the shell of my ear.

 

The Northern wind speaks in a thousand tongues long turned to dust.

 

It speaks of home, forgotten and forbidden,

 

Of unspoken possibility, seven thousand strings of destiny,

 

Seven hundred forgotten paths.

 

The Northern wind speaks and falls silent once again.

 

 

The Eastern wind whispers, a sweet caress,

 

Tickles and delights, singing of Spring, of budding roses and cut grass.

 

A fragile lily opens in a crystalline winter, a delicate life so easily crushed.

 

The Eastern wind sings an unearthly melody,

 

A future woven in the web of Life and Death, of blood and darkness.

 

It speaks of a shadow, of an end to a fragile eternity.

 

The Eastern wind whispers and falls silent.

 

 

The Southern wind dances, a writhing caress against my eyelashes.

 

It lights a fire, a burning bush, a sign of faith and truth,

 

Blackened and sullied by the deception of humanity's imperfection.

 

The Southern wind paints the untarnished word spoken, the chaos of emotion.

 

There is no past in the South, no certainty of tomorrow, only the unending Now.

 

The Southern wind burns in to ash and falls silent.

 

 

The Western wind roars and howls, screams and whispers, demanding attention.

 

It flows like a river through the liquid spirit, the intangible essence that defines Humanity.

 

The Western wind wears through memory, such a worn thing.

 

Rain falls from the sky, washing away the gray and leaving only darkness.

 

The Western wind cries and falls silent once again.

 

 

Wind and rain, Earth and fire.

 

All fall to the devastation of chaos.

 

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SSmoothie's picture

Very long and formulaic but

Very long and formulaic but beauty bound within its descriptions none the less! Great work! :) cheers s s


Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ยก$&am

AquarianMale's picture

Wow, I read this six times.

Wow, I read this six times. Great works of art I have never given flickers of my time compared to the way this poem engulfs me in a flow of flaming passions. This is writing with a special flare erupting from the soul. I absolutely loved this. LOVED THIS!