When all cool winds blow down the south
Cracking northen lips long enough
Savannah trees have become bare
Time is nigh for the breaking dawn
The call is loud
Time has changed
The tales of the traveler
Are reminders of strive.
They hold his chest of pride.
Sweat is bitter yet bores sweet.
Cool winds carry comfort
Deep sleep tickle dreams.
When the wind passes
Wake to live the dreams.
© Lansah Lawrence