Loving the wind

In answer to a question posed by a young man
Vredehoek, Cape Town, March 2012

It is like an artist painting
in an open studio without walls
with brushstrokes vast and portent
brushstrokes that sometimes barely touch canvas
leaving a mere trace of cloud movement

sometimes the brushstrokes scurry
with greater emphasis
so that leaves tremble
in chiaroscuro
lightgreen-darkgreen-lightgreen

sometimes the brushes move with ferocity
in swift explosions of colour
or they might unleash
angels of untamed wilderness
winging them in like birds and dragons

coming from south-east and north-west
challenged somewhat by tall buildings
channelled by concrete avenues
but strong still
oh its power, oh its running hurtling dancing

whining singing roaring
sighing then hushing
it will touch a cheek or paint caresses
voicing the sonnets of all the places it has been
and telling everything it knows of earth’s

Sistine-esque creation
I close my eyes and listen
to its heraldic trumpeting.
This, Young Man, is the wind in Cape Town
and my charmed relationship to it.

From
The Collected Poems of
Patricia Schonstein Pinnock
1974 -2012 (Unpublished manuscript)

 

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