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I hear a wind whispering from the hills
It comes down tickling the woodland rills
From far is heard the frightened murmur of leaves
As it pounces on them like wayside thieves

It shakes the branches of flowering trees
And their weak petals drop like confetti in the breeze
Over hills and trees it loves to skip and stray
Always in motion, never inclined to stay

It moves unhampered over streams and field
With no resistance to its might, they simply yield
Like a child, it romps over the sloppy meadows
In its gentle touch, dances the gleeful flowers

It skillfully pleats the blue chiffon of the ocean
Sometimes curling waves in electric motion
Over the sea it runs puffing up the sails
And over the sky heaping clouds in bales

Sometimes it steals furtively like a lover
And disappears kissing our cheeks under cover
Often it comes capering with a lilt and a swing
We feel delighted when we hear its merry song

Like a nomad, the wind roams from place to place,
Hiding its mysterious presence from our glance
From an unknown hide out it comes like a spirit
But always making us feel its vigorous might!

At times it gains force and roars like a beast
Felling trees and wreaking havoc with its twist
In rampage, it sweeps the sea and the ground
Triggering sparks of fear and horror all around
So happy to see this enthusiastic response to my straight and simple lines. I have no words to thank you dear friends, especially to Kim who has given an extra shine to my poem......!
When the last person living
Takes their last breath
Stares down the darkness
and meets their hour of death
Birds will not cease singing
The trees will still grow
The tide will still pull
and the wind will still blow
The sun will still come out
As will the moon
The leaves will still sprout
and the flowers still bloom
It is only our arrogance
Which makes us think we
are at the axis of all
That we touch and see
Life will go on without us
Year after year
We will just become the people
That once lived here
I have no voice
I am an echo
In the frequency
Of the soul
No need for ear
Or even breath
That breathe
The truth of old
Simple sound
Bounced around
As it fades
And reappears
Hear me not
In the physical
Repeat and leave
Me here
...
Traveler Tim
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