Mistaken Stranger

This breeze flows north,

but it is not the North Winds.

It has power, and color.

It whistles with wild, willowy songs –

songs that sing sweet sorrow

to the lives of the forgiving. It is

blue, yet not unhappy. It is red

and lacks aggression, anger,

and angst. It is yellow but bares

no smile. This breeze is an

invader. Secrets flow. It confides. It caresses

the skin - not in love, pleasure, or lust -

but as a means of connecting.

It hugs you like a mother. Warm.

Smooth. Loving. This breeze flows north,

but is not the North Winds.