It is a breath that no one breathes,
It is the sigh of mother Earth.
It is a whisper in the leaves,
A tell-tale gust of depthless worth.
It is a song that nature sings,
It is a traveller of the land.
It is a bird with endless wings,
An airy ghost of no command.
It is a rage that consumes us all,
A tempestuous angry beast.
It is a calm we none can forestall,
A being we know of least.
And when we breathe a breath of air,
We’re taking into us,
A force we had not best ensnare,
Hence we release it thus.
