Wind

With the voice of ghosts in mid of night....
You speak to soul and mind, with might....
Pulling on shirt and hair, jacket and skirt....
Swaying plants and trees, chasing leaves in flirt....


Inside the soul, stirring and clearing like a big rubber.....
Cleaning the soul, the land you make us feel to suffer....
The feel is bigger then taste, sound and sight....
What you do the power from inside, thats might.......


Not liked by many but needed by all......
To clean the land, the soul, we then can recall....
Feeling what blocked you, the mind and soul....
To again think clear, strive and reach that goal.....


Dying down and slowly sub dew, just playing around....
You never close by, but always somewhere to be found....
Please be here to let us know, when your not.....
We as earth need you to clean, but never forgot.....