The Touch of the Wind

Do you know what the Moon tastes like?  Do you know what a Rose sounds like? Do you know what the Wind feels like?  For that is the question of today, so let us discover, the Touch of the Wind. 


The wind is a mysterious beauty to me, for none have ever seen it, but only what it can do. The wind is ungraspable, however close it seems to fly across the world. I wish that I could see the frivolous sprite as it whispers in the trees.

What would wind look like if it were not so quick and invisible? I think it would be a wild girl who roams across the world, murmuring to the trees, dancing over the water, and tickling the birds' feathers.  Her hair would streak behind her with untamed curls and tangles, and her face would be as sweet as sugar. But when she grows angry, I imagine her face to grow terrible with rage and she would scream and shriek with howls of ferocity.  What angers the wind, I wonder?

I think that the perfume of the wind changes with her mood.  When she's gentle, the warm smell of apple pie baking in an oven, or french baguettes being sold on the street, float softly through the air.  When she's stormy or harsh, the scent of rain, snow, and sleet fill the world with her changing mood.

The wind sounds like a river, sometimes, bubbling and mumbling as she passes by carelessly, and at other times, she tries to talk loudly over the noise of city chaos or country cattle with loud, harsh breathing.  Maybe that is why the wind grows angry, because we take little notice of her until she bites and claws at our ears with icy screaming.  The wind is rather temperamental.

But what does the wind feel like?  When she slips past us, we feel nothing but moving air, but if time could slow, I think that she would feel much like a serpent; slick and scaly, but not at all rough or scratched.  The wind is a serpentine wisp dancing through air, telling secrets from foreign lands, and beckoning us into her invisible embraces.

So, there are my imaginings on the flighty spirit of wind. If she had a face, what would she look like? If she had a voice, what would she say?  If she had a texture, if you could reach out and touch her, what would the wind feel like?

“Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!”

~ William Butler Yeats