Zephyrs

night breeze and storm winds

Night Zephyrs

How well you know me, gentle breezes all;
You twine your fingers through my hair tonight,
Caress my face, your kindness is a call
To trust beyond the surety of my sight.
Your touch is soft with sweetness of the light–
Half-lights of moon and stars upon your wings
Invisible, O gentle zephyrs, bright
With grace.  You are too young to promise things
You do not know, so none shall blame you, bring
Tomorrow what it may of good or ill.
You are the youngest of your kin that spring
Unbidden from the sun and starshine hill.
You break no faith; you are more honest still
Than hopes or fears, be morrow what it will.

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Cassiopeia
rests in the midsummer sky
and gazes northward.

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Brilliant butterfly
rising high on wings and wind
before the gray storm

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