I hear the wind
high and hard above the trees in the back yard,
feel its stony edge hammer through
the thin legs of my dress pants.

It pounds along the ground,
refreezing the thawed mush of the earth.

It pushes through
the seams of woods and brush,
shoving up against the cold brick and rock
in an indifferent rush against the house.

I step into the unlit porch,
welcoming the warmth inside the darkness.

On such a night as this,
it is good to have a place
beyond the wind’s lancet,
a place where love is strong.

I climb the stairs,
still hearing the wind beyond the walls and roof.

I lie down in warm blankets,
close to the one I love,
grateful, kept, held,
knowing and being known.

Together, we sink into sleep
in the keeping of Him who sends both wind and fire.

H. Arnett
1/26/10