The Wind Poem by Grace Burke

The Wind



Listen to the wind as it whispers through the trees
As it blows along the mountain top toward the open seas
Listen to it cry in the lonely dead of night
And hear it weep with sorrow for the human races plight.

Feel the wind around you, let it lift your spirits high
Let it softly touch your face as you raise it toward the sky
Let it reach the part of you that longs to stand alone
As it blows across the open land, this place that we call home.

Smell the fragrant pine as the wind disturbed it's rest
I love the scents upon the air, that I must confess
I love to hear, I love to feel, I love to smell the wind
It clears my mind, it clears my soul of all that I have sinned.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: hope
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