The winds of change come soft or loud,
A whisper lost, a thunder proud.
They dance through trees, they shake the ground,
Unseen, yet felt, in all they sound.
They lift the leaves, they bend the sky,
They turn “hello” into “goodbye.”
A steady breath, a sudden gust—
They scatter dreams, they stir up dust.
No hand can hold, no wall can block
The winds that shift the ticking clock.
They carry hope, they carry fear,
They bring what’s far and draw it near.
A house may fall, a seed may grow,
A heart may break, and still we go.
For change is not the end of things—
It’s birth, it’s flight, it’s hidden wings.
So when it comes—don’t brace or flee,
Let go, and sail the storm-tossed sea.
For in the winds, the soul will find
A newer path, a freer mind.
Thank-you for reading.
Remember there are many paths back to God.
Follow your own path,
Brenda Marie
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Wonderful poem, Brenda.