The Wind

The little girl swayed As the wind took her Along the path where she laid Her head down and sang A little song for a little girl. “The flowers are so pretty”, she sang. The wind led the flowers Where the birds’ song rang Their peddles fell as the birds chirped A pretty song for pretty flowers. “The grass is so green”, they sang. The wind guided the birds Where the trees were high The trees watch as the birds fly And sang a song for flying angels. “The birds sing well”, they sang. The wind blew the trees Their leaves flew with the birds To guide down the path of song The trees stayed, for their song was made. While no path is defined, The wind carries the songs Along the path that one can find.