What happens when the wind blows,

Trees sway in morning light, in the dark of night.

Blowing throught the branches, a tune in the sky,

Leaves floating to the ground do make a quiet sound.

When the wind blows where then does it go,

Across the wide open fields, through some beautiful hair.

When the wind blows who knows, beyond the mountains,

What destination, does it even know, the wind always blows,

When the wind blows it has forever some place to go.

Keith Garrett