Quarterns

Winds and Ways

Image by David Mark from Pixabay

When winds wind their ways through woods of this land,
I hear a silence chummed by its own sound,
A sound that stills my mind and wakes the sand
On which I’ve stood sullied and stilled but sound.

Oh, the birds greet mirth and mirth births love
When winds wind their ways through woods of this land;
And the days turn sound with the nights that shove
The light that brightens the homes that here stand.

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I wish I were a member of the band
That has abode here since the start of time.
When winds wind their ways through woods of this land,
My ears oft yearn to hear their wondrous rhyme.

I shall return to this land, for I will
To watch the winding ways when I turn bland;
Will the same joy be sensed upon this hill
When winds wind their ways through woods of this land?

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