HEADWINDS

Tall pines are rarely still, even in quiet sunlight

The highest needles sway while the lower branches and

Trunks balance out the motion with horizontal and vertical calm.

A recognition of upper winds travels through veins,

Knowledge being a tree’s birthright,

Headwinds forewarn a gale, counter the normal easy passage of

Air through the conifers’ slender fingers,

Create the power to bend and twist each branch

Caught up in an invisible brawn.

There is a line between a breeze and a tempest,

Like a spider’s first thread cast as an anchor in the wind,

To forge a way across the silence to the loudest torrent of air and water-

Fierce, rapid drumming against the ear. 

Predator wind, vine-wrapped around the trees, 

Flashing air split in search of the tallest

Trunks in a thundered clash, tangled arms broken,

Bark stripped from top to base in a wide swath

And threaded back into soil.

© cmheuer, 2013