Whispers in the Wind
September 22, 2007 by Shirley Allard
The mighty oak tree softly speaks
with whispers in the wind
It does not ponder purpose
nor worry how or when.
It speaks of dark and stormy days
of its struggle to stand tall
and of how its mightiness began
with an acorn ever small.
As it grows, with neither thought nor care
its branches dancing on the air
a tiny acorn hits the ground
in spring, an oak tree to be found.
I have listened to its wisdom
its message I shall heed
and live my life as though I too
am a carefully planted seed.
I think more of us should heed your advice to become whispers in the wind… a worthwhile goal, in my estimation.
So beautiful. Reminds me of my morning walk listening to those same whispers. It’s nice to know they are universal amongst the trees.
I love love loved your poem, so much so that I borrowed it. Sorry. I gave you your credit and I linked my blog to yours. I hope you don’t mind. It fit so perfectly with my word of the week. I’ll provide you the link below. Thanks for sharing your talent.