windspirte

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my grand mother was native American; i wrote this for her. linda

windspirte

Hush my little ones don;t you cry iam not gone ; look to the sky.When you see a feather come softly down or feel a soft kiss of  air on your face it will be me When you hear a bird singing in the tree;s or the wind blowing in the leaves it will be me So little ones don;t be sad look at the sun and be glad for i am  all around you to warm your face to sing  in your ear to put feather kisses in in your hair so just smile and be glad for i will always be near and when you see the sun rise in the morning or the moon come up over the mountains at night  or the wind singing in the trees smile and say grandmothers here it will be me

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icu2 commented on windspirte

02-22-2010

Spoken like a true Grandmother! I need not ask if you love them. lol ....You paint a very pretty picture with that pen of yours.

The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

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