*reflection on recent local windstorms and the aftermath

Sometimes, the wind blows
With a force
That makes even the seasoned Oak quiver,
And the malleable Willow seize,
At times, it makes us remember,
Despite technologies, tools,
Advancements,
Configured and utilized
By living beings,
We are still that
–Living, mortal beings,
Miniature vessels
Of this infinite infinity,
And to the wind
the tree bows
And as do we.
With heads lowered,
Hidden from us all,
On an even smaller scale
A seed sprouts;
All present feel, know,
And are humbled by
The life shaping power
Of sacred breath