HEAR THE RUMBLE OF THE THUNDER,
SEE THE LIGHTNING IN THE SKY,
THE GENTLE RAINS THAT
SPEAK OF THINGS, UN-MENTIONED.
THE FLAMES OF THE
FIRE, THAT I DO TEND,
AS I SIT HERE AND LISTEN TO,
WHISPERS ON THE WIND.
I OFTEN THINK ABOUT YOU, AND
THINGS THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.
I SEEM TO HEAR YOU CALLING ME,
THROUGH WHISPERS ON THE WIND.
I WATCH THE BLUE RIVER,
DISAPPEAR AROUND THE BEND.
THE WATER SEEMS TO SING TO ME,
BUT IT'S THE WHISPERING OF THE WIND.
IN THE SKY, ABOVE THE CLOUDS,
THE MOON DOES BRIGHTLY GLOW.
IT SENDS A THOUGHT ON RAYS
OF GOLD, TO GENTLY TOUCH MY SOUL.
AS THE MESSAGE REACHES OUT TO
ME, I FEEL THE BREEZE AGAIN.
THE SECRET THOUGHT I SEEM TO HEAR,
MUST BE THE WHISPERING OF THE WIND.
STANDING HERE ALL ALONE,
BY THE RIVER AT THE BEND,
I LONG TO HEAR JUST ONE MORE
TIME, THOSE WHISPERS ON THE WIND.
IF ONLY JUST, ONE MORE TIME,
WHISPERS ON THE WIND.
©Don & Linda Dade,
Published by Tin Pan Alley
Light a candle in Yarrick's memory, for a sick, abused, or special needs furbaby,
or perhaps just someone who needs a prayer and a candle lit.
