The wind whispers soft secrets,
Untold, unseen, yet ever near,
It carries the weight of the ages,
And sings of things we cannot hear.
It dances through the ancient trees,
A restless traveler, wild and free,
A breath that knows no bounds or walls,
A fleeting dream that calls to me.
It speaks in languages unknown,
Its voice both gentle, fierce, and kind,
A spirit lost between the worlds,
Unraveled, yet so intertwined.
Through fields it roams, across the sea,
A messenger from lands afar,
It stirs the soul with mystery,
A fleeting touch of who we are.
A song without a final note,
A path with no end to find,
The wind is a whisper from the stars,
A call to leave the past behind.
The Dreamer's Pen 
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