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When the wind comes



When the wind comes

And gently whispers

The walls of your house

They listen


As the rain falls

And sideways splatters

The rivers stand up

Fattened


Mellow a lullaby

Echoes in the sky

Unrooted trees

Your relatives fly


Then the wave rises

Wrath with no reason

The coast suffers

Anger season


The whispers of wind

Are howls to men

Wailing the heavens

Commend


The sun on the morrow

The ruins surveils

Walls dug hollow

Damp shades


Long lines gather,

disheveled robes

Tears torn asunder

Wind, gone


When the wind comes

And gently whispers

The walls of your house

They listen


 

I written this piece a year ago, after long conversations with a friend of mine about her experiences withstanding typhoons. Sadly enough, it's still relevant today - and it will be relevant in the future.


Typhoons are a seasonal weather phenomenon. I live in a part of the world free of them; I don't feel qualified to give you anything but the dictionary definition of the word. However, I can't help but think that we should raise awareness of the issue - especially given that they might be getting stronger due to climate change.


I can't properly express how bleak this feels to me, so make of that what you will.

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