Austru is the cold winter wind from the east and calls Romania home. Zephyros, is the Greek god and gentle wash of spring air who visits from the west. Many cultures have crafted thoughtful names for every bluster, gust, and breeze that blows through the world. Peruse this list of names and see how many you know.
Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here is a poem from Richard we enjoyed:
It is not enough to leave the ground.
You know this—what you imagine is real—
the dark fish leaps, armor softens
into flight: yet, the sea pools in a raven’s wing,
the bent world turns impossibly: look
even the angels are drawn to its cage,
slights of hand, tricks of light, it’s not enough
merely to fly—
listen: in the frail air
above the earth, where all cries are whispers,
the falcon, feathered hyphen, rises,
vanishes in the illusion of morning blue.
Ask yourself, what is this, if neither wing nor eye.
POETRY PROMPT: Write a poem about a particular type of wind. What does it do? What kind of personality? Does it have a gender? Think of a clever name for the wind or choose something tried-and-true.
Photo by Cheryl. Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Heather Eure.
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Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!
Browse Air and Wind
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- Animate: Lions & Lambs Poetry Prompt - March 12, 2018
- Poetry Prompt: Behind the Velvet Rope - February 26, 2018
Donna Z Falcone says
You are the wind no one can see.
The cleansing breath that flows in me.
The steady, soft enduring light,
Enduring through the darkest night.
You are the wind no one can see.
Sweet breath of life. My breath. Sheri.
(In Israeli, the name Shiri means- song of my soul. Other origins for the name Shiri include – Israeli, Hebrew. The name Shiri is most often used as a girl name or female name.
Read more:http://www.meaning-of-names.com/israeli-names/shiri.asp#ixzz3VDBTgRNx)
Richard Maxson says
Donna, what a lovely poem about breath; it is exactly that, song of my soul.
Sandra Heska King says
Oh… that makes me take a deep breath.
Donna says
🙂
Elizabeth Marshall says
Donna, exquisitely wrought.
Donna Z Falcone says
😀
Donna Z Falcone says
Richard, I am always drawn into your powerful images – always wondering how they come to you, so unexpected and original.
Richard Maxson says
Thank you.
Richard Maxson says
Thanks for posting my poem.
Richard Maxson says
Night Wind
I looked for you in the wind; I thought I heard your breath
against my ear, rising and falling. I thought I felt your
fingers in my hair, pushing it back. And like opened doors,
I saw the leaves go silver as they turned, and beyond
each one revealed a universe of midnight starry skies,
opening and closing at your touch. Was it the wind or more
at work? I looked for you behind each one. Was it you or
my heart’s desire to see the stars as your bright eyes.
I reached for you in the air, but the warmth was the night,
it slipped from my arms without a trace, and I turned
to follow you, thinking I saw your face, but it was moonlight.
I listened everywhere and every sound I ever learned
I heard, and felt again your breath—I thought I heard you sigh.
I looked for you in the wind. Was it you I felt pass by?
Simply Darlene says
i read this after i wrote my offering… commonality of lunar affections, aye?
Richard Maxson says
Lucky moon, gets to shine up there while the sun does all the work. But we love it, yes.
Elizabeth Marshall says
Love the repetition, like gusts on evening-wind. Striking images, powerful line-breaks. Going to read again.
Will Willingham says
Everyone knows it’s Windy.
😉
Donna Z Falcone says
This song will be in my head all day long. Thank you for that! I love it.
Sandra Heska King says
Ha! That brings back memories.
Donna Z Falcone says
Chef
March breeze, distinctive
purple notes, deglazing
Winter’s stubborn crust.
Simply Darlene says
maketh me hungry 😉
Simply Darlene says
tickle my fancy
loose my confines, zippers and ties
moon’s whispered kisses
Monica Sharman says
Trade Winds
Defined by where they came from, the direction
of their influence.
Named for the commerce sailors counted on,
goods in wooden ships.
Driving paddle board and snorkel
out when sun is low
before heat and pressure move them
through heady-scented petals of plumeria
and ti-leaf skirts of kahiko dancers, hands
waving like the surf, and like the wind,
moving.
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Richard, this is a favorite poem of mine, of yours. 🙂 🙂 There is something about it that knocks me in the gut, in a good way. You craft such powerful poems. Amazing, this one. Strong imagery that plays in my mind so concretely.
Interesting, though it “sounds” like you, something about it rings of newness in your writing.
I am a fan.
Elizabeth Marshall says
Light To Varable
She left faint impression of her presence, bringing neither hail nor thundercracks upon her tepid arrival.Those who seek will see, her footprints like a hologram upon the jetstream’s flip side. Her’s, a current marked by wax and wane. No windmills spinning wildly from her force. No weathervane flying clockwise then quickly counter. The seed and feather, bird and Monarch bow in gratitude. She will take the kite heavenward and lift a bubble whole. And leave the world in tact. Gentleness her strength. Her lack of power her greatest force. The meek will inherit the Earth. No mountains moved.
Elizabeth Marshall says
AURA
You were still a stranger
Not yet fully here
neither known nor seen
by the break of day
You’d been hypnotized by ebony hand of night,
Later you will rise and meet the early cracks of light,
Join me as I blow the dewdrops, rolling like marbles down the footpath
meet me at the cusp of still new-day
I will softly kiss your cheek
raise the tree limbs, make them dance
And we will count the fading stars and falling crescent moon
watch as fireflies
turn their tail-lights off
and go in search of sleep
close your eyes
so I may kiss your neck’s nape
with my cool breath
and wake the day with Hope
(In Greek mythology, Aura was goddess of the breeze and fresh cool air of the early morning)
Natalie Salminen says
Cemetery spring
Spilling bouquets hide your name
Wind-blown and weeping
How I love Tweetspeak! I’ve been practicing because of you 😉 and often adding haikus to my photos on Instagram (instagram.com/tuliptea). The invitation and ever-hospitable prompts from you all have nudged me closer to my poetic self. So grateful!
Donna Z Falcone says
Natalie, so wonderful that you are here and sharing your words.
This haiku is moving – makes me feel a sad, forgotten sort of feeling… I really love the image of wind-blown and weeping…
Elizabeth Marshall says
Natalie, so lovely to have you and your poetry here.
Oh do come back again and again. If you’d like, share your Instagram so we might read your haiku.
So pleased you found your way here.
Warmly,
elizabeth
Natalie Salminen says
Thank you for your warm greetings and encouragements…I’ll be sure to stop back soon.
http://instagram.com/tuliptea
Elizabeth Marshall says
:)Natalie.
Elizabeth Marshall says
The Copper Cock
Tries in vain to tell
Spins erradictly, east west
which way blows the wind?
Elizabeth Marshall says
I am having such fun with this prompt!! Thanks for allowing me multiple offerings.
Elizabeth Marshall says
Outside My Kitchen Window There Is A Symphony
Hollow music begins
At the pleasure of the wind
Notes ride on kitetailes
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Tails*^ 🙂
Can’t wait for edit option.