The Wind Is Silent

By John I. Blair

Though it blow strong
The wind is silent
Until it meets a partner.

And then there's music.

From trees a leafy roar,
From prairie grass
A hissing rush.

From the ocean
First the pregnant hush
Of open-water waves
And later, at the shore,
The liquid crush
Of rolling surf.

On broadcast towers
The tight-strung wires
Release a cosmic hum
As if the wind had strummed
A vast guitar.

And in my ears the wind
Performs a mellow tune
That never stays the same;
It plays me like a flute.

My point is that
Until it greets a lover
The wind's great powers
Produce no song.

© 2004 John I. Blair