Gaia's breath is a sweet sigh that cools us in the heat of summer's evening, soft kisses on the damp pulse points at backs of knees or inside elbows. Fierce too like passion's pant, gusty winds of spring, the vitality of new love an excited gasping. Sometimes a furious squall of rage, a banshee screaming exhalation, toppling trees slamming houses tossing cars like mechano, perhaps a violent and vengeful bellow against our frequent transgressions. Or maybe a teasing breeze like a lover's trailing caress down breastbone or nape of neck, rekindling even the sleeping flesh of the elderly with the deep cellular memory of nerves trembling in exquisite aching tension, a pendulum straining sideways, till that tipping, tumbling crash throws us onto a calm shore, restored to centre. She croons to us in the language of her moods, the wind carries her message as it travels through forest and desert, over ocean and icefield, arriving to greet our skin, with cool breath against our warmth, goosebump braille her text message on our flesh. In wind's whisper She says "Love me too and I will forever kiss you with my sweet breath, hold you safe in the eye of my storms and lull you with soft zephyrs"**
**Alexander Pope ” Lull’d by soft zephyrs thro’ the broken pane.”
Prologue to Satires, line 42.