Drive clouds away or steer much dark ones our way 
to make our land gulp and drown.
Make rain spit on our blinds.
Wind, shepherd of rain,
be benign again
to when your mission wasn't to fall our walls, roofs, and trees.

Cover our eyes with dirt, invade our privacy with dust, and
conceal the colors of things.
Wind, whisperer to sand,
be benign again
to when your vision wasn't to obscure our sight or put dust in our lungs,
to when your aim wasn't up-a-notch aggression,

to when your concern was even distribution of rain,
humble precipitations,
pollination,
and merciful ventilation.

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