Wind Never-Ending
The wind is an eagle
Noble and free,
It comes on its own,
Bond by none
Not even me,

The rebirth of the land
Is teeming with trees
Their leaves just sprouting,
Heads of tulips just budding,
The wind blows in
Carrying upon its back,
Clouds plump with liquid
Both nurturing and sweet

The land bursts in lush carpets
Thick and green,
The animals returning
From long winter sleep,
The wind passes over fields
With dandelions a-many,
Their furry yellow heads
Bowing so gently

The heat of late August
Is cured by a breeze,
So blissful and free
It rustles emerald leaves

The Earth follows its course
Away from the Sun,
The leaves turning crisp
In the chilling air,
From green to yellow
The leaves transform,
To a painting splashed
With warm autumn color

The wind picks the precious leaves
Right off the sleeping trees,
It spins them around
Scattering them wide,
Until they have fallen
On the brown bruised grass

Further and further still
the year goes on,
leaves die and fall
so quickly they go,
until no more are left
the trees left naked

White snow falls softly
Coating the ground,
The sun hiding away
To slumber through day

The wind whips it up
Whitening the air,
Giving the hare
A whole hearted scare,
While children giggle and laugh
Dancing ‘round in the winter storm,
Fearless and joyful
That winter was here at last

Over and over
The course repeats,
The wind blowing constant
Through every season its sees,
But out of its reach
Lay great galaxies beyond,
Where it will never blow
Or ever fill that infinite space

The wind is an eagle
Noble and free,
It comes on its own
Bound by none,
Not even me

©2011