From the Four Winds

Where do I come from? When will I end? the answer is found, where this poem is penned

Across the green waters of the seas
Across the blue oceans with ship and sail.
Fly as though a swarm of angry bees
I float over this land with gust and gale.

Oh, for that momentous time of flight
Will one rise up or take upon the chin?
Questions abound of that windswept plight
Answers in directions from the four winds.

A tornado howls, and then it's still
A hurricane it stirs and, round it spins.
Strong enough to scare and even kill
I'm four reasons that people count their sins.

Rolling onward, I turn and then stall
Resurgence always, my squall never ends.
Regardless how many names you call
Consider a present from the four winds.