Amidst the dry heave
This ancient scourge
I yearn and implore
For the trying winds of old

Amidst present strife
I turn away
For the frostbitten days
That unmerciful cold

For the beckoning sway
Of a wind chime’s refrain
Their resilient toll
Is sure to remain

I’m swift to recede
Quick to recall
The timid dismay
That once plagued my all