poetry
I
W I N D
s there anybody could tell Where the wind comes from, Getting quickly among the trees Turning up the back side Of the trembling leaves. Free like the wind From the sky till the ground He loved wandering around, The eyes of a boy Exploring the shapes Of his new toys.
Restless and impatient He was always on the run Looking for something true Among the peoplae he knew, So much like the wind He cannot be seen The secret is what you feel. One day he was gone. No need to chase the wind, Those days are over… Little angel, she stood there The wind stopped in her hair ! Goran Galaboff taken from: “TAO of LOVE”
26 - VOICES
