Wind and Storm

Poetry by Renea (Ren) Ladawn Spidell


Clouds billow over the mountain
Like smoke in columns lifting,
As gentle mist, a velvet grey,
Rain from the clouds is sifting.

Water, a gift from our mother,
Rain that brings life to the Earth,
Great drops like sacred kisses,
A downpour of infinite worth.


Their meeting makes rainfall
So vital to life,
A delicate balance on
Edge of the knife.

Two become one and
Rain is their daughter,
Miraculous product of
Fire and Water.


Tossing, turning, dancing away,
They come in a swift summer storm,
Mixed in with colors in all shades of gray,
Shiney bright rainbows,
and Pinks soft and warm.
Here they loft and spread and billow,
Like a beautiful woman's best dress.
Wind fluffs them to look like a pillow,
Awaiting a maiden's caress.

Wind Spirit

Deep in the desert,
Fire is my lover,
Flame is the passion,
Which drives me to craze.
He flings me to ecstacy,
Tosses me higher,
On shimmering curtains,
That rise from the clays.

I chase through the canyons,
I fly over the fields,
Restless and moving,
Though I never tire.
Dancing and wheeling,
Through fields of wildflowers,
Engaged in a waltz,
With Celestial desire.


to my father,s Home Page