The breeze with invisible cool fingers caresses gently

Its touch like that of a lover’s sensuous stroke

It enters unsee through open windows

Announcing its arrival with the flutter of curtains

Whisperiing ambiguous words in the ears, a voracious gossip

With cool fingertips it wipes away the moisture of earnest toil

Bringing in the fragrance of the floral breath from meads

To fill the environs with intoxicating redolence

Playing like cotton puffs with the strands of clouds

That drenched in rainbow colours at the birth and demise of the day

Or coloured as the kohl from lovely eyes before the storms

Howling like a mouning woman at a funeral

It weeps in the raging storm, mercilessly withering flowers

And uprooting gigantic trres that refuse to bend to it whim

Flowing through fields of yellow mustard crops in bloom

It makes the scenario appear as the fluttering veil of nature

Drenched in the colour of morning sunshine

The guider of the kite during its forray into the cerulean skies

And the strangler of the innocent fluorescent bubbles sailing high

It guides the boat with billowing sail through the whirling azure waters

Wind enters the tiny holes in the flute emerging as symphony

The leaves of green foliage flutter in the draught whispering softly

And blossoms are fell from boughs in showrrs by invisible fingers

As a homage to the earth who endures the seasons and plough

On its bare breast with stiffled shreiks and mute sighs

From the tune of flutes to the sound of the drums of thunder

Wind has many moods in its invisibility…