The Messenger by April Dill

I hear the wind calling me
I see it running through the fields
I feel it caressing my hair
I taste the joy and hate it brings.

Is it life
Or is it spirits of the dead?
Did it have a glorious birth
Or did it just appear?
What are you?

The messenger.

One of good?
One of evil?
One Divine?
One of time?
What are you?

The messenger.

You are so cold,
Yet so welcoming,
You reveal secrets of the earth,
Yet steal names from the grave.
What are you?

The messenger,
That is all.