The Wind Is My Pillow©
The wind is my pillow upon which I lay my head,
The clouds are the down upon which I make my bed,
Together we all float in an undisturbed slumber,
Where all of the worldly woes we can disencumber.
The wind is my pillow when the day is done,
When the warmth has finished and the night's begun,
And the down around me I can enfold,
Admitting me again to that reassurance untold.
The wind is my pillow gently pushing me wide and far,
The chill of the night is blanketed by the stars,
And on we drift through a sleep of silent peace,
And once again we the chaos can release.
The wind is my pillow never knowing where I'll be,
With my eyes closed I wait to see what I will see,
Continuing to coast in a docile state of desire,
Unscathed and untouched by that which would conspire.
The wind is my pillow upon which I lay my head,
On the clouds of down I make my bed,
Pushing me gently to here and there,
Reposing once more to that place dreams will share.
poem by Joanna E. King
Added by Poetry Lover
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