The curtain is alive
When the wind is in it.
It fills and billows
And spills it's lovely
Fragrant wine.
It giggles and stares
And shrugs its shoulders
Without a second care in the world.

Its first is something no one knows,
Until the wind forgets to blow.
The cup runneth over not.
Joy is gone.
The spirit has wandered far away.
No life dancing round in the curtain today.

But somewhere
Someone is settling in,
A loving smile,
Tweaking a chin,
Nuzzling the whiskers,
Laughing,
As ten winds blow
The curtains all aglow.

-jenn