In honor of “Earth Day” Sanaa, the hostess of “Prompt Nights” has asked us to share a poem about one of the specific elements (wind, water, fire, or earth). And since I missed last week, I’ll share two poems this week to make up for it: one focusing on rain; the other on wind.
Also, I know I’m going against the tide in my offerings today. I can’t seem to muster a poem that bewails the supposition that man is destroying this planet. I just do not believe that’s true, so don’t expect poetry from me that goes there. Instead, whimsy is my bent today, so I’m offering a light-hearted look at the short, but significant life of a raindrop and the longer and more powerful life of the wind.
I AM A RAINDROP
I am a raindrop.
And I’m looking for place to plop.
I’m falling quickly and cannot stop.
I don’t know where I’d like to be,
But I definitely don’t want to land in the sea.
You see, if I were to land in the sea,
It would be so anti-climactic for me;
I would lose my personal identity,
Even I would no longer recognize me.
No, I must find some place solid instead.
Perhaps on a daisy in a flower bed,
Or a plant so parched it’s almost dead,
Or the page of a book that’s being read.
I must decide as fast as I can,
I’m falling quickly toward some folks on the sand.
So many are out there just getting a tan.
Hello, there, little bald-headed man!
His head sure was tempting, but then a breeze blew,
And drove me off course; what am I to do?
Oh, I see it! I see it! My target’s in view!
Get ready; get ready; I’m landing on you!
I AM WIND
I blow where I will, and no one can still
I rustle the trees and gust where I please
I sweep ‘cross the plains and often drive rain
Raging through canyons, I roar with abandon
But sometimes I play; come April or May,
I’m a teaser.
On soft summer nights enrobed in moon’s light,
I’m a pleaser.
I’m gentle and warm, and sweethearts I charm
Then on to the fall, with crisp breeze I call
Leaves to dance.
I carry the scents: burning leaves, bonfires spent
But I bring colder days, frigid nights on the way;
Find those boots.
For I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and the tempts will be tough;
I’ll bring snow.
Though the drifts may be bad, children’s hearts will be glad:
School’s a “no.”
Through the rafters I’ll sing, and my bite – it will sting,
For a while.
But in no time at all, I will bring springtime’s thaw;
I lift birds on the wing, and the song that I sing –
It brings rest.
I am wind, and I’m thrilled that I cannot be stilled;
I am blessed.