Stories of the Wind
As I sit here, I wonder
and I ponder,
my mind wanders
from the trees
and the bees
and the birds that fly free,
to the steady beat of nature.
That gentle, steady beat
like the thumping of our feet
or the banging of the drums
and the clapping of our palms.
I close my eyes and listen to the stories of the wind,
the history that it brings
to us.
Why don’t we ever listen to the stories of the wind?
It can tell us where we’ve been.
The wind has seen it all
since the beginning of time,
always blowing
always flowing with experience
and never ceasing to watch the end
just trying to mend
and unbend
what was broken and twisted
telling us what we’ve done
how we’ve changed the earth God begun.
We’ve saluted to wars
and polluted for cars;
made slaves of one another;
made fools of each to other.
And all this time
the wind just watches
and catches
glimpses of our detriment
sighing with disdain
as we live our lives in vain.
It tries to warn us
with that gentle, steady beat,
tries to remind us
of a time when the birds were not the only ones to fly free.
Why don’t we ever listen to the stories of the wind?
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