Winds 'n Roses

(Oops! I edited and published something quite old and thought it would retain the original date. Oh well!)

Exhausted, I lie here sleepless, listening to the wind. My thoughts drift and swirl like the sounds dancing outside my window.  They say a storm is coming. Knowing this makes the wind sound different. I listen a little closer. I hear a threat and a howl. I wonder what will happen ... if we will be prepared, protected.

But as I contemplate, I remember that wind is what one waits for when wanting to fly a kite. I remember that wind carries seeds to perpetuate new growth. I remember that sails were meant to catch the wind and propel a vessel.

So I wonder in a metaphor of life ... what am I holding to the wind? I realize that I feel fragile. What I hold is more like a flower than something destined for flight. I think maybe I have wrapped my wings around myself and they have become soft like petals. I imagine myself as a flower in the wind.  And I worry that the delicate layers will be quickly stripped and my hopes now folded and soft will have been dashed.

I write and let the wondering thoughts wash over me ... Silly me. I know that just as it would make no sense to display a boquet in a windstorm, it also makes no sense to try and fly a kite indoors. Both will result in some kind of destruction! There's a time and place for everything.

Nurture the fragile. Launch the bold.