Whispers of the Wind

The wind whispers secrets to the trees,

Dancing lightly through golden leaves.

A gentle touch, a fleeting sigh,

Carrying dreams as it passes by.

It sings to rivers, wild and free,

Rushing onward to meet the sea.

It stirs the fields, the waving grain,

And hums a song in falling rain.

At dawn it lifts the morning mist,

A fleeting kiss, so soft, so crisp.

At dusk it calls the stars to gleam,

A lullaby for those who dream.

Oh, wandering wind, where do you go?

Through mountains high or valleys low?

You whisper tales both old and new,

A song of time—a gift so true.