Where Comes The Wind?

I step out my door and a breeze blows in my face and through my hair.
Where did you come from, little burst of wind?
Perhaps that piece of wind came from the steppes of Mongolia.
It started its journey flowing down mountains and through canyons.
It flew all the way across the Pacific, making the wave tops white.
Then up and over the coastal hills, swirling past the sand and trees,
until finding its way to my doorstep.

Maybe that wind got started as a cold breath from Alaska.
It might have flowed over the glaciers, growing colder.
Perhaps it whispered through the trees of the forests before moving to the ocean.
It joined brother and sister breezes to form a strong wind that blew sand,
trees, flowers and grasses all the way along the coast until California,
and then separated off on its own to cross my doorstep.

Or that wind could have started as part of a warm tropical breeze in Sri Lanka,
picking up the spices and scents of that sunny land.
Perhaps that piece of wind blew across the water and pushed sails before it.
The wind could have wafted around the tea and rice fields.
It could have blown through surfers in Hawaii and stirred long hair,
before making its long way across the Pacific ocean to my doorstep.

Where did you come from, wind?
Wind that made me close my eyes,
and ruffled my hair?
Where did you come from, wind?
And where will you go, next?