I wait, I Listen,
For the world is loud in its awe of day,
But its only heard best when all is silent,
And the lights go out.

I feel, I whisper,
For the wind cries out for all to hear,
But its misunderstood and left to only a mumble,
And the world sleeps.

Because I sit and wonder why the wind stays persistent,
For what it wants to share must be to us of some importance,
So then why do we bottle it up to no more than a sound,
So I opened the window,

The sound rushed in with a punch of emotion,
Enclosed the room with nothing but chatter,
The mumbles became clear and the wind became heard.

I sat and listened to the words untold,
As thoughts and actions drowned my head,
All was clear and fine in mind,
Then silence, and nothing but the peace of night.

I will not say what I heard from those spoken,
For thou may know when thou is ready to listen,

But as I am the wind, left blowing in the night,
I speak in mumbles and seem sadly mistaken,
For my words get twisted from thought to tongue,
But thou may not be heard if one doesn't open their window…