The Next The Wild Wind Blows Poem by Asher Proschansky

an oriental rug
flies through the air
buffeted by the high winds
keeping depth up there
a weaver works the rug
weaving through despair
adding color, shade and shadow
to an already rich texture
the weaver travels the rug
still working his magic
catching the spirit of the wind
laying it down on the fabric

and when the whirlwind calms
there be a spirit in repose
and a depth of riches
the next the wild wind blows