A whisper through the trees tells of tales,

Of a rustle at the nudge of summer breeze,

Then disconnect from branch in autumns rage,

This is how the wind doth know the leaves.

LIfting voices through the woods it goes

Notes that tumble like the drops of water in a stream,

Carrying the songs of birds to all who hear

A beauty that allows us chance to dream.

But when onward into winter heads the wind,

Then by drifting flakes of snow together makes it known

For those who doubt the power of the earth,

Through the wind it is that we are shown