Monday, November 21, 2011

The Wind's Song

O winds that blow across the sea,
What is the story that you bring?
Leaves clap their hands on every tree
And birds about their branches sing.

You sing to flowers and trees and birds
Your sea-songs over all the land.
Could you not stay and whisper words
A little child might understand?

The roses nod to hear you sing;
But though I listen all the day,
You never tell me anything
Of father's ship so far away.

Its masts are taller than the trees;
Its sails are silver in the sun;
There's not a ship upon the seas
So beautiful as father's one.

With wings spread out it flies so fast
It leaves the waves all white with foam.
Just whisper to me, blowing past,
If you have seen it sailing home.

I feel your breath upon my cheek,
And in my hair, and on my brow.
Dear winds, if you could only speak,
I know that you would tell me now.

My father's coming home, you'd say,
With precious presents, one, two, three;
A shawl for mother, beads for May,
And eggs and shells for Rob and me.

The winds sing songs where'er they roam;
The leaves all clap their little hands;
For father's ship is coming home
With wondrous things from foreign lands.

--Gabriel Setoun-- 


Last night I was doing some research on the computer, and I could hear the whistling of the wind in the back yard.  It wasn't windy or cold outdoors, but from the back bedroom, the slightest bit of breeze sounds like a major gust of wind.  I've always loved the wind, the feel of a cool, crisp breeze brushing across my face, or lying in a cozy bed on a  cold winter's night and listening to the howling winds as they echo through the air.
   Air is the element of the East; it is connected to the soul and the breath of life. Birds of all kinds belong to this element.   The element of air is associated with movement, thought, communication, inspiration, and wisdom. It corresponds with the mental plane. It is associated with the east. Thus it represents the power of beginnings. 

Sylphs are the elementals of Air; they the spirits of the four winds, and like wind, sylphs move quickly and suddenly, and can travel great distances.  They are delightful, pure, innocent, playful creatures who dwell in the etheric elemental substance of Air, a spiritual medium contained within the atmosphere. Although they represent life-giving breath, they can also bring with them the menace of storm clouds or the mystique of fog. They are very beautiful creatures who are often seen as silvery sparkles dancing in the air. They are always invisible, though a sylph that wishes to be seen may pick up loose dirt or incorporate smoke into its body to make itself visible

Sylphs can be called upon by burning incense or fragrant oils. They respond well to music.   Contemplate the element of air. Take a deep breath and feel the power of wind in your breath.  Let the element of wind bring clarity to your mind. Feel the wind on your face. Feel the caress of the breeze as it passes over your skin. Its gentle touch is comforting and warm You may see faint flickering lights or feel a shift in the air around you as they come to you.

Wishing you all a wonderful day.

6 comments:

  1. -happy sigh- Beautiful post...........

    Gentle hugs,
    "Music is a friend of labor for it lightens the task by refreshing the nerves and spirit of the worker." ~William Green

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  2. My wind chimes give the breezes away. ;0)

    Happy Day back at ya m/f
    (((hugs)))

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  3. I love the wind too, i'm also drawn to rough windy seas

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  4. I love the wind too Mary...something we so take for granted...its power of blowing away the cobwebs in our spirit, how it brings refreshment, how it makes the leaves dance, all of it...there aren't enough adjectives to describe it. I loved the poem you shared and the info!!!

    Here's wishing for you a week of ease and the gentle winds blowing you what you need.

    xoxoxo

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  5. Hi sweet friend.....nothing like a gentle breeze to remind one of how truly wonderful our universe is.

    Stay well dear lady,

    Jo

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  6. I cannot sleep without the window open or at least a fan blowing on me.

    Beautiful poem and thoughts Mary

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