Listening, Yes, I’m Listening

a poem by Rani Turton, France


To the wind in the trees, the leaves as they softly whisper
Ah whisper unwise and profound things to me:
In this crazy world words at times bind you
Instead of setting you free.

Listening, yes, I’m listening

To the wind in the trees, the leaves as they softly whisper
Ah whisper unwise and profound things to me:
In this crazy world words at times bind you
Instead of setting you free.

Songs of wisdom,and sometimes liberty;
Telling me to leave pain behind
To seek another kind of identity.

Leaves move like soft and tender hands
Leaves whisper and sigh, sigh and so
I listen, yes, I’m listening
To their voices as the day drifts by.

Who do they speak to? To me?
Or to the stone tower and the sky?
Ah, if only I could decipher their voices
Their language and thus reply.

Listening, yes, I’m listening
Though I rarely did that well before;
Listening, as the wind is whistling high
Listening in silence once more.

Copyright: Rani Turton

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