Day 59, Sunday just has to be Sunday sometimes

So I didn't actually write a poem today because the two year old is still awake in his bed and I'm just worn out! But, I am posting a poem I wrote not too long ago. It made sense when I wrote it [shrug] :)

Wind

What a whispering wind
it must of been
to pass through
and never be heard
knocking us from the
cusp of reverence
we slipped
rapping on the rocks,
letting our wounds
be our pleas

I’ll take the wild seas,
and the hunger and screams
of a soul too lustful
of words. “If only
the wind would pass me again
and whisper her secrets to me!”