Rapatap, rapatap, rapatap! The sound reverberates upon my window like pebbles crashing upon glass. Waking from a deep slumber, I rise to find it is an old friend that sits at my windowsill awaiting for allowed entrance.
Her name is Wind and she is as ancient as time itself. She can appear craggly and weathered at first appearance, however, she has a soft, warm and tender side to her as well.
She will never enter uninvited, for she knows that each person is the keeper of their own window. Some choose to lock her out forever, while some are apprehensive, almost fearful at first upon her presence, finally unlatching the window after eons of holding onto a false sense of security and independence.
Then there are those who have known her from time began and welcome her presence into their private abode. These are the ones who know her and her customs. Wind is strong and protective to those who allow her the key to their soul. She is a nuturing nanny who will cradle the children in her care, caressing them with sweet kisses upon their brow.
Often, her charges will be stubborn, unmovable and unwilling to adhere to her wisdom. And only as a caring parent can do, she will gently nudge them forward onto the straight and narrow path.
When she beholds trouble, she will tightly grip her child and clench them back until the road is clear of danger.
Wind does not take her calling lightly. She will fight fiercely for her children. She is an armored soldier who will stand and protect what is hers.
Once the windows are swung open, she will enter by the breath of God, never to be extinguished. The window opened is entrance to a summer field and the opener of the window becomes a wildflower blowing in the wind.