Standing on a cliff, he watched the trees bend under the wind, like waves of the ocean slowly reaching the shore.
His eyes were heavy and a yawn escaped him.
The wind roared ever closer and a strong gust made him stagger, the wind taking away his breath.
Gasping and kneeling before the elements, he bent to her will.
Man or animal; plant or rock.
They all bend – eventually
Authors note: Do you think this is this a poem or a very short story? I honestly can’t tell…