In the serene hours of twilight’s embrace,
As the world slows its frantic pace,
A whisper stirs, soft and kind,
The gentle rustle of the wind.
It dances through the towering trees,
A secret language, nature’s breeze,
Carrying tales from distant lands,
Brushing past with unseen hands.
Through the leaves, it weaves its song,
A melody ancient and strong,
A hymn of earth, of sky, of sea,
A tune of boundless mystery.
The wind knows the heart’s own sighs,
Lifting the spirit, bidding it rise,
In its embrace, fears unwind,
Carried by the rustle of the wind.
It speaks of journeys yet untold,
Of whispered dreams, of hearts so bold,
Moving the soul, fanning the fire,
Igniting hope and deep desire.
So listen close when night descends,
When silence with the darkness blends,
For in the air, you’ll surely find,
The wisdom in the rustle of the wind.
