How wise the wind must be,
To travel the land and the sea,
Over hill and over dale,
In hurricane or gale.

Over rooftops and through trees,
Round scantily clad knees,
He howls through the night,
With all of his might,

He prowls through the day,
Flying every which way,
He shapes the new land,
By blowing the sand,

He makes the trees dance,
And the flowers all prance,
How wise the wind must be,
For he sees the world for free.

Mathew Rush