This poem is wind

This poem is wind
divine breath
caught in a whisper.

I do not see her
come or go
only experience
her ripe rhythm of deep embrace.

She touches me, 
taps us on  
the shoulder

and is gone, 
a vale in the wind, 
torn and blown 

present yet far away
calls me to
my next horizon,
invites me to be
the lightness of a single breath blowing.

(poem by w. craig gilliam, 2016; photograph taken and copyright by Susan W. N. Ruach)