The Whispering Wind

The wind that sings through ancient trees,
Bears tales of love and flights of ease;
With every gust, it whispers low,
Of journeys far, through fields aglow.

It calls the wanderers to roam,
Across the hills, to find a home;
In rustling leaves, a languid plea,
For hearts attuned with Nature’s glee.

O Wind! Spirit bold and free,
In you lies magic, wild decree;
Guide my dreams as you dance and sway,
Unfold the path that leads the way.

• Alphonse de Lamartine