The wild and terrible wind!
Alone with my ghosts in the darkness,
Alone with the wind that rips music from my harpstrings.
Lonely mourning heart,
Pounds in the night for lost hopes:
Rhythmic counterpoint for the wind’s heartsick sighs.
The cherished illusions I called my life,
Rip away from me scrap by scrap
As the gale hurls me towards the destiny I half feared, half sought.
My strength –
The strength I dared not believe in –
Lives inside me, called up by the darkness.
Heeding destiny’s call in the thrumming of heartstrings.
The song of my wildness,
My wanting, my freedom, my power.
The music the wind calls from my throat is my heartsong!
I came across this evocative image by Mariposa Viejera at Poefusion’s Monday mural – a weekly image posted to inspire poetry. I wanted to have a try at writing something, but for a few days nothing seemed to want to come. Then last night, kept awake by a wild storm, this poem just turned up in my mind and demanded to be written down!