The wind chimes sang to me
through the night
and into the morning —
they sweetened my dreams
and my prospects.

They were untiring
in their celebration of
the wind that came
up ocean, through trees,
across the craggy rocks of mountains,
bringing the fragrance of
the powerful rightness of everything,
that which returns each day, as if
all our pathetic twistedness
had not touched it at all

And indeed
the freshness that escapes
in these rifts of wind
is proof.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 10, 2016