LET ME BE THE WIND

Let me be the wind that dives from the sky
suddenly–abruptly–violently
Raging across neatly rowed golden stalks of corn
at Harvest Time

Let me hear the palpable flutter of those stalks–
the crisp rapid slapping of one plant against the next
row by row
as I touch each of their thousands in just a few seconds
I want to be that quick about it.

Let me be a Spring storm when rain clouds
pay homage to the earth below
unleashing their bounty
dousing and saturating young cornstalks
To tease them to grow up and up
that there be more of them to bend, when
I as wind cascade across their numbers in the Fall.

Let me be the unblinking, merciless July and August Sun
staring through the blue sky
Mitigated and punctuated by thrilling night time explosions of lightning
and deafening thunder my simultaneous counterpart

Let me shake cornstalk youngsters at their roots
twisting and tearing at these obedient soldiers of nature
to encourage stronger moorings which they will need
when as Wind I pass over and through them again
before the Harvest.