Some say, it’s bleak and cold,
This wind that never dies.
It ages you, turns you old…
Wears you down-makes you cry.
This wind they hate with fervor,
Carries me to flights of fancy,
Whirling and dancing-wondering what’s in store,
I give myself over to wind dancing!
I rise like a leaf in the storm.
Let it take me where it will.
I’ll have times when I’m not warm,
I’ll have times when I’m not still.
The freedom of this effortless flight,
The heights to which I soar,
Make it all seem right,
And I’ll ride the wind more and more.
Copyright Donna Ridgway
I wrote this after I met my husband Robert. Meeting him, left me feeling free and happy!