FRANKENSTORM MUAHAHAHA (idk what the title for this should be sooooo...)

Listen; and you will hear the wind blow.
Tousling the treetops as an adult does a child's hair.
Pushing through every crack, hole, or crevice,
Creating a sound out of nothing and air.
You can hear it;
Louder, stronger, then fading, swirling back into an invisible circle
Whose presence is only known by the leaves it whisks around
Like grains of sand being swirled about by the waves,
To be placed back down upon the surface to which our feet remain steady until the power of nature shakes us back down again,
To be replaced back upon the ground from which all grows up from
As gently, as vague, as almost unnoticeable as a whisper in a silent classroom.
There, but just.
The leaves make the noise of the wind as it pushes them against one another like people in a crowded subway, murmurs of discontent.
They don't like the contact.
No one does.
The wind doesn't mind, it's in the mood for a powerful night tonight. The waves, far out at sea, are being pushed and pulled by it.
The moon is losing her power tonight.
The rain that follows the wind,
That exposes the wind like a sheet placed over an invisible person,
Showing which way it chooses to go.
The rain is silent.
Until you listen for it.
The rain is invisible.
Until you watch the yellowy orange glow of a streetlight.
The rain cannot touch you.
Until you push yourself outwards into it's wet, cold embrace
As it covers you and whispers in your ear.
The rain is the voice of the wind.
Giving something silent sound.
The rain cannot speak on its own,
And neither can the wind.
They move together in a harmony few notice and even fewer can match.
The clouds are dark tonight
They blot out the stars.
Not that they're anything new.
We see only the sparks from thousands of years ago.
The moon isn't here tonight either.
The clouds cover us,
Hide us,
Like a hand pressed over our eyes.
We are in our own world now.
And the wind and the rain are creating a dangerous duo tonight.
It's dark outside.
Shadows fall everywhere,
Like someone spilled them and forgot about them.
The shadows have never had a voice.
But the rain and the wind voice their fury over their injustice of being only copies,
Imitations,
Silhouettes of everything else.
The trees are silhouettes tonight as well,
Forming dark shapes against the clouds that cover us,
The color of gray construction paper.
The wind is silent
Unless you listen for it.
Close your eyes and listen,
If you were to look outside you'd be just as blind.
So close your eyes.
And listen.
Because the rain and the wind are having the time of their lives outside
Like they've done and will continue to do
Until no one is there to see it
No one to listen for it
No one to care
No rain to speak
No shadows to darken
No clouds to push against
And still, even then, silently, the wind will blow
Like it blows tonight
Pressing warningly against my window and wetting the steps outside my door
Swirling the leaves around in an autumn dance
Just like ones last year
And yet completely different from any dance done any year before.