Wind blows on the acorn tree
Musical silence washes over me
Rustle of leaves
Chirps of birds
The sound as I breathe
Tinkle, twinkle the wind chime says
As it watches the sun put the world to bed
The sky is pink, then orange, then red
And finally black with light shining through
Showing us stories that are true
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem