The Wind.

It skimmed through the pages.
Desolate, sound.
‘Twas a mighty reader,
Heavenly bound.

It awards the trees with spirit,
Inspiration, mobility.
‘Twas a fine breath out,
Accepting ability.

It rustled the leaves,
Gentle yet strong.
‘Twas like a superhero,
Humming the song.

It wafted the smoke,
Character, twirly.
‘Twas a long sight,
A journeyful swirly.

It twinkled the chimes,
Mysterious, mystical.
‘Twas withholding a secret,
Encouraging the kill.

It is the quarter
Of our lives.
Fire, water earth,
The wonderful quadruplet birth.

Understanding wind is a virtue.
Opening their minds to peek.
But blocking your soul selfishly.
They don’t deserve to seek.