The Admonishing Wind

The trumpet of a prophecy! O wind
To gravely foretell of things soon to be
Upon your journey as you onward dash.
You whisper fortunes for each and any
Or speak of downfalls to befall us all.

Blow from the bright, silver, frozen north ice
Slowly depleting and turned to ocean.
Carry the tidings past inlet and shore
Where feather and wing, polluted by grime,
Are strangely. awkwardly, misplaced and lost.

Rustle the white-purpled hillside heather
Crying out for the rains, pleading in vain,
Sunburned and sun-bronzed where once were the storms
But drizzles are seldom mentioned today
For clouds are redundant and left to roam.

Darkness falls early to shadow the land
The coughing of chimneys wind gathers up
And is choked by the wheezing smoking breath
Which stifles and smothers the end of day,
Where darkness lingers, reluctant to go.

Yet, we say we care for our mother earth:
As our god watches blindly, we do nought
But talk of repentance to save our souls
Though don't heed the sighs of the warning wind
So, it shuts out hope and wisps it away.