The Winds of Change There are winds, strong winds and they fly with the great eagles, wearing the feathered robes of clouds, caressing the land with currents, twisting trees, shouts of the leaves, there’s a howl sharpening the senses, the sound of life burdened by rain.

This is nature’s insistence, cries of thunder, trying to tell, reminders from the earth cornucopia, a braiding of green and hushed earth, a world we must feel beneath feet, stones speaking underfoot.

Here’s where time collapses, history wrapped in gnarled maps, shadows dancing with fireflies. I stand with truth as my guide watching the sky mirror the rivers, encapsulated by seeds and notes, murmurs of winter’s sleep to come.

Anne Waldman

• Anne Waldman