Be quiet, be still and listen
To the song of wind in the trees.
The branches tap softly in time
With wind as it rustles the leaves.
With a thousand different voices
And each voice a different leaf,
The wind sings through the trees of fall
In a soft, gentle harmony.
Dried leaves that scurry on the ground
Are driven by a gentle breath,
And rustle in soft company
To play a dirge of summer’s death.
The song of wind in evergreen
Carries a faint sweet scent of pine,
So close your eyes and listen
As their wind song plays in your mind.
You can never hear the wind songs
In all the shout and noise of man,
But walk out, be still and listen
To witness the wind songs at last.