Wind

Spirit Wind

Sun breaks the horizon and a shy wind carries with it whispered
secrets.

Whispers, whispers, whispers.

They are there throughout the yellowy morning alive with birdsong and
warm with mysterious fragrances.

Whispers, whispers, whispers.

They are there when the day is slow with heat and droning
cicadas.

Whispers, whispers, whispers.

They are there when trees shimmer and shadows dapple in the golden
orange of afternoon light.

Whispers, whispers, whispers.

They are there when the evening star shines out of an indigo sky.

Whispers, whispers, whispers.

Night, and the spirit wind carries with it the wisdom of the ancestors
spoken quietly in soft breathy whispers.

Listen.

Judith Morgan