I hear him in the wind,
the staccato of soft
mixed with crescendo
of cool, quick breeze;
he says he’s still there and
he still loves me.

I hear him in the wind,
the leaves wave in
a chorale of green, evidence
of this force unseen;
he’s left, he’s gone,
I carried on,
yet I still have so much grief.

So I give it back to
sky’s whispered care,
who tells me he’s here
on the wisps of new air- –
that all beginnings
begin with an end;
that love lives on
when it’s carried within:

I miss you my brother,
my family, my friend- –
Now I hear you in the wind.