Secrets of the Wind
The wind whistles through the night,
Whispering of secrets.
But, although I try with all my might,
They are still secrets.
I find I have become deaf and dumb,
To Nature’s secrets.
And the wise, they cannot plumb,
The depth of those secrets.
So, I forget all I have learned and known,
What others said were secrets.
So, with the innocence of a child not yet grown,
I understand the secrets.
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