Whisper
As I sit here
On this rock,
Writing about my life,
The environment has blessed be with a cold, crisp, windy day.
I listen to the trees, they are content, they are loved, they are not alone.
The grass moves with each gust, the elements working together
In perfect harmony and perfect peace.
My hair moves ever so softly with the everlasting breeze.
The air is whispering secrets to me,
Only I can hear them.
I won't tell, it would be my
Horror to reveal such things to those who do not understand.
Copyright © Amy Brown | Year Posted 2006
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