soft wind

It wasn’t too long ago really. Maybe it was, I can’t
really remember that well. What I can tell you it was like walking
down the road in the afternoon sun, when a cool breeze comes up and
the wind changes bringing shade from low hanging clouds that seem to
follow you as you walk along. That is how I remember it.

There was a place on a high mesa not too far home, it is a quiet spot,
where one can sit and reflect on those things from day to day. I think
everyone has one of those kind of places they remember where they can
sit a spell and let thoughts rush in or flow out. Some place where
time stands still and we can take a break and breathe a little bit.


It was at this place, she found me. I don’t really know how she
came there, maybe she was on a distant mountain, her thoughts hanging
in the air like mine, where some times kindred souls meet, not so much
talking to one another, but in thought.


It was like lightening, flashing in the distance, the look of
something so new and yet so unknown that it makes you take notice. It
was in the quiet recesses of my mind, in the midst of my soul that she
stepped in and said…hey there.


Sometimes in this world there are words, a quiet conversation about
nothing really, just about things you somehow you find yourself
talking about with another person. The words themselves don’t
mean anything, it is the thoughts that they convey, the spirit of a
person, how they are. What it is that is behind the eyes we see,
beyond the look of the them, to the inner place where we live. This is
the place she came from.


In the valleys, and dusty roads of home, where there is a lot of quiet
and wind blown sand. Where in the stillness of night you can hear the
sound of coyotes and the stars hang like streetlights in a city, where
eternity seems to be just a step away. Where thoughts travel on
shooting stars, shining bright and disappearing to places we will
never really know, but they let us know they are there and at times we
stand in awe of all of this and find ourselves to small in it.


In the old days, the stories speak to us of the Wind that carried
thoughts, and spoke to us quietly about the things of life, telling us
to take it slow and maybe to look twice at where we go. Sometimes it
comes in strong, making us hang onto the earth, feeling the sting of
the sand it carries, at times people we meet are like these
whirlwinds. At other times there is a gentleness rarely found any
where but in the still quiet of s light breeze rustling through the
trees.


Often times the twist of an old juniper stands in front and you
can’t see what is on the other side, but when the wind is right
you can hear the gentleness of life, knowing that there is peace and
harmony.


It is times like this when you find places of respite from the bitter
winds, and at times cool water to drink. I wonder if it is possible to
find such a place and yet to want to share it with someone who can
understand this place and all that it means.


She came to me and we sat for time taking all this in and didn’t
really say very much, but our thoughts raced on the wind, we layed
back and touched the stars, feeling the moon beam upon us and we found
peace with each other and shared something that is quite rare. She
gave me a part of her that no one else will ever know and it is a
place where eternity stands still.


I wonder now if she sits back every once in a while and in the
stillness of a quiet street, or while looking out the window if she
remembers this place. I sometimes wonder if on some far off day, that
we might not meet again.


I remember she told me…you made me love you and even though we
stand on different mountain tops and not seen into each others eyes
that our thoughts, hearts and souls danced on gentle winds and ran
among the stars, that upon rainbows we walked and shared what is so
hard to find on this dry dusty place we live on and that is cool water
and sweet taste for life that stays with me even now...

rustywire