Listen to the wind—
it carries stories it never keeps.
It moves through trees
like a hand through hair,
gentle, knowing, unafraid.
The wind doesn’t hurry,
yet it arrives everywhere.
It teaches the grass how to bow,
the clouds how to wander,
the heart how to let go.
If you stand still long enough,
it will find you.
It will speak in rustles and sighs,
in the language of almost-remembered dreams.
Listen closely—
the wind never tells you what to do.
It only reminds you
you were never meant to be still.
Thank-you for reading.
Brenda Marie
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