Rhymes of the Wind

Rhymes of the Wind
Whistling through the forest,
Air of the north passing through,
An ode to winter’s touch,
Her soft alighting, mass assemblage,
Her vistas, her charm, her milk,
An ardent poem
Composed by the breath of the north,
Shaped by the
Arms of the trees,
A language of a thousand tongues,
The voice of the empyrean,
Universal psalms,
Hidden poems within a poem,
An ode to the passing of the seasons,
Summer’s charm giving into winter
Stripped of its emeralds that
Lay waste on the forest floor,
Taking on a new texture,
A new sonnet of the seasons,
A new poetry of the new age
Reciting winter’s lament,
A requiem for the death of the old
And a euphoric ode to the new
In a language of the spirits
Wrapping around the trees of the forest,
Speaking to the ear of the heart,
The rhymes of the wind,
The lore of the forest
From the poetry of
The voices of the seasons.

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