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…