The wind says "fly"

As I went on a walk today, the wind bit at my face and neck. I regretted forgetting my cap.

I walked a little faster so blood pumping through my veins would warm my extremities until I could return to the shelter of home. In no time I was soaking up the sun's rays through my living room window. It seemed to me that the sun commanded I remain curled up on the couch. Calm and still. But on my walk the wind urged me along. Wild. Hurried. Alive! I picked up my computer and composed this poem.

Longing

Sun

Heavy on my skin

Demands I stay

Here

Connected to Earth

But the wind says

Fly

Make no mistake, I love the calm. The adventure, though, is in the walk — and the wind.