The wind blows in waves of dry leaves,
Yellow dust,
And delicate rumors.
Gusts of courtships,
Whispers of relationships,
Tales of failure and success,
Whisked from mouth to ear by blooming curiosity,
Arrant jealousy,
And sprinkles of fear and worry.
The ventures of preying birds,
Soaring over the prairie,
Diving into circling flocks,
Disturbing their flight,
Staining their feathers,
Upsetting the good order of nature,
Its boundaries and manners,
Drawing chaos and fear.
Riders of confidence thermals,
And kindness gusts.
Robbers of trust and warmth,
Chasers of fantasies and imagination,
Charging onward in a drive to conquest,
Unwilling bodies, resisting souls,
Who seeks nothing but peaceful existence,
But are forced to flee,
To hide,
From the menace.
Quests are made to stop these ravens.
Hints heavy as tree trunks,
Are dropped in their path.
Pleas clear as a blue sky day,
Fade into thin air,
In grand ignorance,
As the cuckoos rush to vanquish,
Their object of desire.
The flock soars up,
Flies in closer formation,
More cautious,
Warily mindful,
Of the skies above.